December 22, 2011

• True Friends

  I have heard people talk about this strange phenomenon that happens with their kids.

  Where all of a sudden they don't want to be seen with their Mom anymore.  Where they are embarrassed to walk into the store or the school or into church with you.

  In theory it doesn't seem that difficult to deal with...when you hear another Mom talking about it or mentioning it casually in a conversation and laughing it off.

  But, as with a lot of other things in life, when it happens to you...its a whole different story.

  Up close and personal, its a lot more raw and gritty and emotion-packed than when I've heard it second hand.

  It stings.

  It happened to me this morning.

  I had to walk into school with Derrick because I was bringing a treat for his classroom party and the treat didn't fit very well in his backpack.

  He scurried ahead of me out of the van. At first I didn't think too much of it, but then when I said "Hey, wait for your Mom!" and he glanced at me but kept right on trucking...walking fast, as if I was the fox and he was the rabbit being pursued and about to be eaten if he didn't stay one step ahead...I started to realize what was going on here.

  Then I thought..."No, not me.  Not yet.  Not MY son."  What have I ever done wrong?  How could he possibly be embarrassed to be seen with me?  I am dressed nicely. All ready for work.  I don't look creepy. I am young and could even be considered pretty.  I am carrying treats that I made and painstakingly decorated for his classroom party. Treats that he asked me to make.  The SPECIFIC ones that he picked out.  How dare he??

  But, oh, yes. He dared.  He totally dared.  To walk at a frantic pace, down the hall of the school, towards the gym where he waits every morning before going to his classroom.  Despite my calling out his name.  This was a boy on a mission.  To get to that gym without being seen with me.

  It hurts.  I don't get it.  I thought I was one of those Moms who is so non-clingy. I've given my children space from the time they were little.  Should that not count for something in moments like this? I felt like we have a healthy sense of "You are you and I am me and we're both OK with that" going on.  I thought I wasn't one of those Moms whose self worth was based in what her kids thought of her.  I'd navigated the "don't hug me in public, Mom" thing pretty well.  Was it not just, literally, yesterday that I stayed home and cancelled all my plans for the day because you woke up with a fever and didn't go to school?  Was it not me who got a cool washcloth to put on your burning hot forehead? Was it not you, my son, who laid your head in my lap as we sat on the couch and I soothed away your aches and tears?  What the heck?  Is this the same boy?

  But this.  This thing of not wanting to be seen with me.  Really?  Are we serious here?  Ouch.  And double ouch.

  I had to talk about it.  I called Jeremy.  I talked for 4 minutes straight.  He said "Uh huh" and "Yeah" and "I think you should blog about it."  (I have no idea if that was sarcastic or not. I am choosing to believe it was sincere.)

  I needed more processing. Some affirmation.  Advice from someone who has already walked through this.

  From behind my desk at work, I sent out a frantic Facebook message to a dear friend.

  "Can you talk?  I'll call later."

  She could, she wrote back. Whenever it works for you.

  Let me just stop right there.

  Because this is what I have been thinking about.  What is a true friend?  I'll tell you what I think it is. 

  Someone who is there for you.  Period.  Whenever. However silly.  When they hear that urgency in your tone and that emotion in your voice (or your FB message) and they say "Ok, girl.  I'll be here. I'll drop what I was going to do to listen and help where I can."

  There are lots of friends who say they will be there. But when the situation arises...turns out they've got more important things going on.  Somehow, you turn out to be more at the bottom of their list than closer to the top.  (I know there are situations that can't be helped. Prior obligations that must be met. I know I am not "numero uno in everyone's life all the time.  I get that, ok?) 

  And when I called her a couple of hours later, she picked up the phone. And she listened.  She was sympathetic. She's been there.  She offered advice.  She CARED!

  Even though she was in the midst of running errands and I had to pause in my pathetic little sob story to wait for her to order "3 lbs. of Virginia baked ham, please". 

  No, she didn't have all of the answers.  There are things that I need to figure out on my own.

  This situation with Derrick feels big to me.  Maybe its not, but it feels that way. Its a first.  It feels pivital. Like, maybe if I don't get this one right, it will affect the next situation.  Like a row of freakin' dominoes. 

  I want to care about what he is feeling. I don't want to make it about me and my feelings of rejection that I am working through. I want to understand him. I also want him to be respectful and polite to me.  Is it really OK to ignore your Mother and race down the hallway so you don't have to be seen with her?  Stopping only to glance over your shoulder, letting her know you heard her, but not slowing your pace?

  And my friend, she got that.  That this is a big deal to me.  She didn't laugh at me and she didn't invalidate my feelings.

  But she gave me hope. She said "This is a phase. It will pass. And one day, he'll want to walk beside you again."

  And just before we hung up, she offered me this piece of advice that made tears spring to my eyes and a quiver creep into my voice.  "You don't have to get it all right, you know?"  I don't know if she could hear it or not, but I said "I know" in a voice that was shaking with emotion and then I hung up, cuz I didn't want to get all awkward.

  Because even though I said "I know", I'm not sure that I understand that it is OK not to get it right.  I feel like I mess up so much already.  I put so much pressure on myself to handle things properly. To be the best Mom I can be.  To be unselfish and try to think of my kids first.  To be able to hear their hearts and understand them. I SO want to get it right.  I feel it like a weight on my shoulders.  Because what if I don't? What if I really screw up? What then?  What becomes of my relationship with them?  Will they have grace? Will they extend forgiveness? Will they see my heart through the hurt I may have inflicted upon them?  It scares me.

  But what a gift.  To say to me "You don't have to get it all right.  You know?"  Grace and understanding and love from a TRUE friend.

  A listening ear.

  Being there. Really being there when I needed her.

  What a gift!  What a blessing! What a treasure!

   

  (I know you'll be embarrased to read this and "ph-shaw" me or try to brush this off, my friend, but I mean it.  Deeply.)

  (I feel so blessed to have a number of these true friends in my life.  Who have really and truly been there for me. I could name a list of names.  Different scenarios, different struggles, different day.  But a common thread binding them all together:  Being there for me in my time of need.  I only can hope that I am also that kind of friend. That the same can be said of me.  Because it is a big deal. A really big deal.)

  • 1:23 pm
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