Skip to main content

Moments That Changed Me #1

My sister and I were talking last night about moments that changed us. The idea is that we all have experiences that change the core of our beings. We each shared only one last night, partly because we ran out of time as our conversation meandered, but mostly because it's just difficult to sort through our memories for those that really transformed us.

Here's my Moment That Changed Me, #1
I grew up in a home with 2 mentally ill parents: a bipolar mother and clinically depressed father. By the time I was a teenager, I was filled with an unexpressed rage at my life's circumstances. I placed all the blame on my mother's shoulders and reached a point where I could barely speak to her.

During the last night of a church revival when I was 15, I sat in the choir loft half listening to the sermon and half watching my mother in the congregation. I remember the pure rage boiling within me, questiong just what God had in mind when he placed me in that environment.

There was no choir singing during the invitation that night, so I sat in my silent seething, sensing the strong tension in the air. I watched as the meanest man I had ever met wobbled between his pew and the aisle before stepping out toward the front of the church.

When he took his first step forward, the tension in the sanctuary broke. In that moment, I saw my mother in new eyes. She was no longer the zombie who failed to do laundry or the lunatic who insulted me. She was a person with problems that she neither chose for herself nor controlled.

I forgave her. I screamed it within my soul. It was all over. My piano teacher and dear friend was sitting next to me, and she noticed the tears I fought to hold back. The woman looked me in the eye and asked if I was okay. I nodded. Her dark eyes stared right to my soul as she said, "You know I love you, don't you? I love you."

That was the first time I remember ever hearing those words from someone. They spoke volumes to me, and in that moment she served as a surrogate for both my mother and for God. I needed to hear those words audibly.

I have never again felt that level of rage and resentment toward my mother. I have carried with me those tender words spoken in the choir loft, tucked away in my heart.

Comments

Christy said…
That's a beautiful memory. It's such a freeing thing when we begin to see our parents as the flawed, real people that they are. Just like us.

Popular posts from this blog

Busy Days Ahead

It's been a busy week for me. I left my house at 4:30 Monday morning for my drive down south and pulled back in my driveway at 1:20 this morning. The days have been long, too, between working at the new school from 7:30 until 3:00 or 4:00 and then working at the new place until 9:00 or 10:00 each night. I now have callouses on my fingers and not one intact finger nail. I think I've also developed a new twitch somewhere on my face. One afternoon this week, I stood in the middle of our new living room and took in the sight of missing drywall, a growing hole in the floor and soaked up my husband's predictions that we still won't be ready to paint by the weekend. All I wanted to do was cry. All I felt was nothingness. Numbness. Anyone who has ever reached the point of numbness knows that it's scarier than feeling like you're falling apart. It's one step beyond feeling like you're falling apart. I couldn't help but wonder just what we had gotten ourselves

The Carnival

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon here in southwest Florida, although still a bit too warm for my November tastes. I'm learning to enjoy my weekends with as much unstructured and unscheduled time as possible. Last Saturday was a delightful unstructured day. A new friend of mine (the one from the Everglades excursion) and I went to a local carnival. Now, here's the thing...I LOVE carnivals. The food. The people. The rides. The lights. I can easily spend an entire day wandering through the crowds. He's no carnival slouch. The first thing we did was walk through the entire place, scoping out the rides. Then the fun began. We rode almost every ride there (except for the kiddie attractions and the broken Tornado). The Wild Claw. The Scrambler. The Orbiter. The Space Oddysey. The Swings. The Pharaoh's Fury. The Ferris Wheel. The Giant Slide. The Haunted House. The Avalanche. It was all good. How can you top a ride that uses centrifugal force to plaster your body against

Stranger Obligations

I had to make a few difficult decisions this week. At least, they were difficult for me. I wish I could be the kind of person who completely makes decisions based on his/her own needs and wants and boldly moves through life with unabashed freedom from how our choices affect others. But I'm not built like that. I had placed an ad for my former stray. I felt like it was time to find her a more permanent home because so much in my life right now is uncertain. One person answered the ad, but she did not seem like a good fit, and I gave up further thought. This week I received another response. As long as this person is telling the truth, it's an ideal situation for the dog. Yet, I had a strange feeling and could not sort out whether or not it was my intuition kicking in or that fact that I actually like the dog and don't want to see her go. In the end, I decided that it was in my own (and my Winnipeg's) best interest for her to stay with us through the summer. (I seri