Showing up is best way to show a mother you care
I have been feeling quite unappreciated at home recently.
Perhaps it’s because my husband has been working a lot of evenings, so I come home from work to cook, clean and do laundry somewhat alone. Perhaps it’s because we’re raising teenagers who would currently rather be anywhere but around their admittedly lame parents.
Regardless, it’s hard when you feel unseen by the exact people you wish knew you best. To feel taken for granted by those you love so much. To feel unheard when you say you need help.
No matter what I have recently asked anyone to help me with, it has gone unfinished.
“Please do a load of laundry” has been interpreted as, “Put a load in the washer, but don’t switch it to the dryer, that way mom has to wash it again tomorrow when she finds it and it smells.”
The same could be said for my requests to have a floor swept, the dishwasher loaded and firewood hauled. The half-complete tasks were offered up as properly completed jobs, and when I explained that it wasn’t acceptable, I was met with heavy sighs and hard eye rolls.
I had been settling in to host myself a good old-fashioned pity party over it. A pity party of epic proportions that I figured would last for a while, or at the very least, end in an enormous argument between my husband and me over taking things too personally.
I fought against it.
Truly, I tried to talk myself out of feeling that way. I tried to talk to my family about it, explaining what I needed, but it felt like none of it had any impact. It felt like they were not only ignoring my feelings, but going out of their way to increase my irritation.
Yup, taking it personally.
A few mornings last week, I even cried on my way to work. Maybe yelled at God during my morning prayers.
I wonder if he felt unappreciated and misunderstood?
And then Sunday, I was surprised by my family in the best way. I had agreed to sing a solo at church and had been working on it for weeks. But my daughters usually work Sunday mornings, and my husband rarely attends with me.
After Sunday school, I had gone to the sanctuary to set up and check my mic volume. I was beginning to feel an incredible amount of nervousness, like I do every time I sing in public. Just as I finished, I looked up and saw my husband, our son, both daughters, and one of their boyfriends, joined in our usual pew by a couple of our friends.
I nearly cried.
My husband had been working on the surprise for more than two weeks, getting the girls to request off and coordinating everyone’s attendance, solely to support me.
It was practically a miracle.
In that moment, all the negative feelings of the weeks preceding dissipated. It meant so much to me that they all changed their schedules to come and listen to me.
I’ll grip tightly to the memory for the next time I’m feeling unappreciated, because I’m sure the miracle was limited to their attendance. In fact, I’m pretty sure there is a load of clothes in the washing machine needing rewashed as I type.
Well, you can’t win them all, but I felt like the winner today.