Thursday, October 13, 2011

I wish I had a Mama.

Some hurdles are meant to be leaped over, some knock us down, some we can't even get our butts over. Someone asked me once if I would ever "get over" my mother choosing to leave us. During the night. Right before Easter. Never saw her again. The answer, simply, is no. No you don't. There is a huge part of me that will always wish I had a Mama. A Mama that is truly my own, a Mama that adores me like I adore my children. I have needed a mother. One that would be there for me, that lets me sob into her shoulder, one that will never ever leave. Never leave me, because I simply am one of the reasons she breaths. People are so hopelessly flawed. It has been so rare for me to find a friend that is steadfast and true, and is forever. I have a hard time getting that. If you're not "blood" to someone, then their family always comes first, and friendships are allowed to fall my the way side. What cannot I become a part of someone's family? Why does blood have to define that? Where does that leave someone like me? Someone that doesn't have that mother and father or other relatives that make some other lucky duck feel whole. It makes people like me afraid to death to trust in human relationships. After Isaac died, I thought bonds would be fortified, but really, most fell away. The few people I shared Isaac with, outside of family, are no longer in my life. I shared the most precious and sacred part of myself and they walked away. Couldn't deal. Talk about casting pearls before swine. It still stings. Some how I have to let it go.

And then. Then there are a golden couple that have forgiven me at my worst, given me chance after chance, and some how still loved this miserably flawed person that I am. It's a next door neighbor that has become like a sister, an old high school girlfriend that loves me just because she thinks some parts of me are amazing. I am thankful for those women in my life. I need them. Kinda like I've always needed a Mama. I need that kind of love, that someone sees the worth in me that can sometimes be shadowed by my inability to be "normal". Tender mercies from God. I thank Him for that.

Avery. Avery is like a breath of fresh air in our home. People say a baby changes everything. And he does. He does not change what has happened, what we lost, that I had to bury my son, but he has brought about a change in my heart. He has softened the blows life deals out. When I look at him, I marvel at the miracle he is. He is whole and healthy and God delivered him to us. New life is miraculous. Every smile. Every coo. Every drool, burp, pool, squeal, cry - - I bask in it. When I look at him, I feel a sudden burst of joy in my heart that has been missing for so long. Many times I have felt pure happiness, I love the feeling. I have missed it so much.

Anyways - until another time, I know that it is few and far in between, but I'll be back when I can.

xo Misty


Holly said...

I have def seen support that was there in the beginning of it all fall away. We all need those people who are there no matter what, whether they are family or friends. I wish there were more of them.

Sarita Boyette said...

Misty, I was blessed with wonderful, Godly parents and the naive me thought everyone had it so good. I was very sheltered, but as I grew up and saw things in the world, I knew that I was truly blessed. I wanted to be a librarian, but what would you guess the Lord twisted and turned me into doing for my life's work? He lead me to be a teacher for emotionally handicapped kids, many of whom had mothers like yours. As long as I was able to teach, I loved them and tried to show mother-love to them. I said all this to say - I'm sorry your mother left. I wish I could comfort you like a mother can. It hurts me to see that a child is abandoned. I embrace the little girl in you & the woman you are today and send lots of love. (((HUGS)))

Pokeyann said...