Sunday, May 10, 2009

Happy Mother's Day-- Such that it is

To those of you who are mother's, I do wish all of you a wonderful Mother's Day. It's Sunday afternoon, and I am enjoying peace and quiet at my house. Some moms might feel lonely. Me? I enjoy my solitude. However, I did have a bit of a pity party this morning:

For Mother's Day, I accept that my son doesn't have the money to buy me flowers, take me out to brunch-- and he's not been very good about buying cards. In fact, I can only remember ONE Mother's Day (since B's father and I divorced in 1996) that my son even did anything for me for Mother's Day.

Drug Addiction has a lot to do with my son's lack of money. I know that.

My pity party started this morning. I told B that my Mother's Day desire was that he would come to church with me. He eagerly agreed. In my heart of hearts, I do believe that B wants to come to our church. I've said before, that our church is fun. We have an excellent pastor, excellent contemporary worship music, high tech lighting and sound and it's not a "stuffy" kind of church. Each Sunday, B says he's coming to church-- but it's like waking the dead. He can't get up to go at 8:45am on a Sunday.

I would much rather sleep in, truth be told. But, 9:00am is our church service and that's just how it is. We heard B up and stumbling in the bathroom. At 8:45am, I knocked on his bedroom door to tell him we were ready to go. There sat B, in bed, with a cup of coffee and a perplexed look on his face.

"You didn't say anything about going to early service", he said.

"Yes, last night when you asked what time we were leaving, I told you. I also said that I had to work with the high school kids after morning service-- and that I'd be home in time for brunch (which I made ahead of time, and had frozen... cheese blintzes)."

My heart sank. Once again, another Mother's Day where my son dropped the ball. KA-BOOM.

Somehow, I knew this would most likely be what happened. My husband saw the hurt look in my eyes. I was angry, but I didn't yell or throw a scene. I just got into the car, with my husband and my bible.

The service was amazing. When the pastor applauded for "Mom's" I could feel my eyes welling with tears. I struggled not to cry. I so wanted my son to be with me, as I looked around to see other families with their kids.

The pastor prayed for moms-- and then he did it. He prayed for moms who are struggling with their adult kids. Dang. The lump in my throat grew.

I remember praying that God would not allow resentment to grow in my heart. I know the devil's tricks. I know that the Dark One thrives on feeding negative thoughts. "It" wants me to become angry.

My heart began to calm down and I just accepted that I was not going to let my Mother's Day be ruined. My husband, bless his heart, held my hand and I could feel his love-- that comforted me, tremendously.

The message was based on C.S. Lewis and it was about how we allow distractions to keep us from spending time with God. I thought to myself how I allow so many distractions to keep me from having my quiet time. When I do take the time to open my bible, and to read scripture (and I've been remiss in that, to be honest), I find such comforting in reading God's Word.

My son has his own distractions. I realized that spending Mother's Day with me, at church, wasn't important enough to him. Staying up all night long to watch last season's episodes of "Heroes" is more important to him. Watching MTV, while I'm out on a date with my husband, was more important to him than doing his laundry and being ready to keep his promise to me.

When I arrived at the High School ministry, I saw one of my co-leaders. "Betty" told me that she had been gone due to chemotherapy. I thought that her hair looked different! We chatted a bit, and I'm amazed at what a Godly woman she is. What a positive attitude. She was more concerned about my son than telling me she'd been ill.

When I returned home, the house was a mess. B hadn't bothered to clean the house. I suspect, that as soon as he heard out car in the driveway, he jumped out of bed and began to do laundry.

I wanted to blow up with anger. Instead, I grabbed my bathing suit and towel and drove to the swimming pool in our subdivision. Swimming has become great therapy for me. By miracle, there wasn't a living soul at the pool. I gambled that most mom's would be at brunch. I was right.

When I'm in the water, and alone, it is a great time for me to pray. I began to think about my morning, and my disappointing Mother's Day. Then I thought of a good friend, whose son is in prison for murder. I realized that she had a far worse Mother's Day than I could imagine. I then thought of "Betty" who is such a brave soul, battling cancer.

It's humbling, you know. As I was doing my aerobic exercises in the warm water, I closed my eyes and thought of what it's like to be a mother.

Being a mother has been my greatest accomplishment in this lifetime. I wanted to be a mother, and God blessed me with a son. B was a wonderful baby, a joy and some of my happiest memories are of raising him. Until middle school, he was pretty easy to deal with.

Even though my son has battled his addiction to opiates, I had to thank God that my son is living with me. He's not in prison. I know that I say this a lot, but it's so true. My son is alive and he's here.

I also thought about my own mother-- and I asked myself "what do I remember most that my mother taught me". My answer was, "she taught me life skills".

I'm trying to do that for my son. Some days I think he's appreciative of it. Others, I think he's clueless.

An hour later, I had done my water aerobics, swum laps and sat in the jacuzzi-- all by myself. It was a beautiful and sunny day. When I returned home, B had cleaned up the house while I was swimming, and I thanked him for it. He did trim the hedges outside, and he cleaned up the yard nicely. I thanked him for it.

B has gone into town to hang out with friends. My husband has gone hiking, after his asked if I'd mind. It's okay. I've spent a little time doing some finances, and I thank God that we're doing okay. I'm watching some TV shows that I've recorded and never have time to watch.

The boys planned to BBQ for me, for dinner. Foodie that I am, I need to let them do it and not try to micro-manage how it's done. It's my nature to jump in and make it all happen. Salmon, salad and grilled corn shouldn't be too hard!

I need to work on not putting my expectations on others. It sets me up for disappointment.

One day, maybe my son will finally realize how much Mother's Day means to women. Maybe when he has a good woman in his life, she will set him straight.

For now, it's Debby Day.

I wish all of you mother's of addicts that you are finding love, encouragement and a blessed day to honor what you do. We love our kids, no matter what.

For those of you moms who do not know where you children are, or they are incarcerated-- my heart goes out to you. I pray that your children appreciate all that you have done for them.



Isle Dance said...

Each day has Mother's/Father's Day Moments, thank goodness. And they add up to so much more than what one (commercially created?) day could ever produce, thank goodness. I often wonder what would happen if we as humans started giving thanks to loved ones during these daily moments. That said, lucky you that you got to have babies. And love them.

Isle Dance said...

Debby - You are so very blessed. I don't know how you do it, but you do. Bravo to you.

Cynthia Newcomer Daniel said...

Debby, because you constantly show such wonderful attitude and gratitude, you're my first pick for the Lemonade Stand award.
Here's what I said about you!Love ya!