The memory is chiseled in my mind as in stone. It was during the season I learned to enjoy my own company, a life-lesson years in the making.
Sitting on a park bench sipping a Chick-Fil-A lemonade and reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the fourth time, a cozy blanket of sunshine shrouded me with perfect climate. Slight movement to my right captured my attention: a swallowtail butterfly slowly batted her fairy-dusted wings, a coy but friendly “hello”. Her tongue uncoiled to taste splintered wood–surely it was bitter in comparison to the sweetness of floral delicacy. I held my breath not wanting to disturb her…desperately wanting to
call out to someone–anyone–to enjoy this rare moment. I knew to do so would send her away, and this treasured moment was only mine to enjoy.
Soon enough the moment passed and the swallowtail moved on to her next banquet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Some of the best conversations with my children have taken place in a parked mini-van in our garage.
Unexpected.
No agenda.
Uninterrupted.
Heart-to-heart.
Brutally honest.
Candid and revealing.
A recent conversation unraveled as they usually do, begun after dark on the way home from “something”; I can’t even recall what led to it.
What ensued was an eye-opening lesson in how parents can presume wrongly where their children are concerned, and they, in turn, do the same.
It ended an hour after I had parked the car and turned off the ignition.
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My children are middle and high school aged now, so I can actually enjoy “adult” conversation with them. I suppose, in part, because they are this age, sometimes I “hear” much of what they say when no words are used at all. They converse with attitude, with body language…and sometimes, with silence.
Over the past year, I had detected a vibe from one of them, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but it felt like a loss of respect for me. Taylor* wasn’t disrespectful, but I sensed this all the same.
Was it because I was an at-home mom?
Could it be I didn’t compare favorably to my child’s friends’ mothers?
Was this child seeing ALL my imperfections and realizing that I was fallible? (If that was the case, I was fortunate it had taken so long!)
Whatever the reason, I was certain something was going on but didn’t know how to address it; probably, more accurately, I didn’t want to address it. Again, this wasn’t a case of outright disrespect, but there was little doubt it was merely vain imagination, either.
And then this conversation confirmed what I suspected.
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We talked about a lot of things before getting to my suspicion. When a child begins exposing his/her heart, you sit still and listen…and relish the moment. Those moments are rare, at least the ones drenched in exquisite beauty, the secret notions of a child’s way of thinking.
Much like the fragile beauty of a butterfly’s wings in deliberate, cadenced flutter.
As the conversation continued, it was clear this was a good time to discuss my concern. It was in keeping with our tone simply to acknowledge what I thought to be true.
“It seems like at some point over the past year you’ve lost respect for me,” I said, somewhere between a statement and a question.
“You know, Mom…you’re right,” before I barely finished the sentence.
I don’t think I expected that, not so bluntly anyway. Taylor must have been looking for opportunity to bring this up, too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I get a lot of things wrong as a parent but one thing I strive for is open conversation with our children; I want them to have the freedom to say anything to me, as long as they do so respectfully. There was no disrespect in Taylor’s voice when those words were uttered, but if I’m not mistaken, the admission was framed in relief.
I didn’t overreact but invited further explanation. The answer surprised me just as much as the original confirmation.
Trying to figure out the “right” way to express a painful thought, Taylor navigated shark-infested waters and ended up saying something like “Sometimes your Christianity is sooo hypocritical….”
I sure hadn’t seen that coming…!
To be continued….here.
* If you’re a long-time reader, you already know Taylor isn’t the name of any of my children; to protect the identity, I’ve chosen a gender neutral name, cause “who” it is doesn’t matter a bit.
on my toes
I could have written this myself.
Although….I’m not sure where you’re heading in your to be continued…
I can’t wait to hear the rest.
So, hurry up! Please? 🙂
I have 3 teens. They have always been near perfect! Lately, I’m noticing a little something. Like disappointment in me (I’m sad about it). We’ve always had this fantastic relationship. I have invested all of me into all three of them. I have felt worried that somehow I’ve let them down.
I’m sorta relieved to hear another mom say what you are saying. Thanks.
Yep. Underneath it all is their own realization that “Woah! Mom is not really the superhero I’d always perceived her to be.” For my daughter, it happened at age 13yrs. For my son, it’s happening now.
What took the sting out of it is my bald-faced, look-them-dead-in-the-eye admission that I am fallible; I make mistakes and I make them often. But I do love them unconditionally, I am their mom, and they still have to speak to me respectfully, even when telling me how badly my parenting sucks.
That helped. Even though the big red S on my chest is faded and peeling, they’re more like their former, sweet selves. Usually.
Interesting – but so honest! We all get to the point of the “S” becoming faded in the eyes of our kids. My 15-year old is right now blaming God for everything – the snow (caused him to be ‘stuck’ at home), missing school (caused him to miss going to lunch with friends), you name it – anything that goes against his “plan” is God’s fault. Son’t remember my older sons putting all the blame of disappointments on God.
Robin, I hate it when you do this.
Only because I know what is coming is SO GOOD! And I want all of it now!!!
Wow. That statement alone makes me want to look at a mirror of myself!
Minivan conversations are worth a million. There’s something about both the intimacy and the neutrality of the location that spurs talks we never would have had in the house.
Just spent twenty minutes on the couch talkign to my six year old – I wasn’t up to par in multitasking today and felt rushed, and I let it spread when I snapped for the girls to hurry up. All day she’s been sad. And it’s been my fault. I feel like an ogre. I told her, “we all just do the best we can and some days we need to be reminded to take a deep breath and to choose my words, and I will listen if you tell me so.”
Good post for today….
I’m feeling the same from my son. I would love to have him say that to me just to have him say something!! Our minivan rides are silent.
Kim
Ooooo, ouch! Been there.
Can’t wait to come back and see what else was spoken.
Wow, I can’t wait to hear the rest!
Good for you for biting your tongue and letting the conversation flow. That would be hard for me.
GULP. I’ve been there, too, and can honestly say that I know there are more of these conversations to come. I appreciate your honesty and can’t wait for the next installment.
It is filed away.
My kids reveal so much of my sinful nature to me……without even trying.