As I dip one tentative toe into the scary waters of the
dating pool, I’ve found that there is one thing that I want most but is also
the most difficult for me to allow. I
want to be pursued. Chased. And that is difficult. I’m not terribly patient. But more than that, I’m a social and outgoing
gal, so I find it difficult to hold back and allow someone the opportunity to
pursue me.
I’ve actually given this quite a bit of thought lately as I’ve
talked to some interesting men and listened to the advice of friends. It has caused me to think back on my life and
history in dating and friendships. The
more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve come to the conclusion that there is
really only one person who has consistently pursued a relationship with me in
my life. I have had some incredible
friends over the years and some long relationships. But generally speaking, I am the initiator of
contact in those relationships. I do not
mean this as an insult to my friends, because when I need them, my girls are
always there. And I think it is probably
our different personalities that cause me to be the initiator. It may even be best for it to be this
way. I don’t know.
But there is one person who has NEVER quit pursuing me. My mom.
We are close. Losing my dad so
young, and it being just she, John, and I when I was in high school and college
forged a close bond between us.
Now don’t get me wrong, Mom and I have traveled a rough
road. There was a time when I was too
much the “partner” and not enough the daughter.
But we worked through that and were healthier as a result. And she never quit trying.
For many years during my marriage, I pushed her away. I shut her out of anything painful because I
needed her to continue to like my husband.
Our relationship suffered. But
she didn’t quit pursuing me. She held
back when she wanted to poke at things, but she was still there. She knew I was hurting and didn’t know all of
the reasons why, but she kept following.
She stayed several paces back behind the wall I created, but she was
there.
On the Sunday morning I called in tears to tell her I was
leaving a 13 year marriage, she kept right on pursuing. She didn’t know all the reasons why, but she
knew me. Even from the distance I’d
created between us, she knew me well enough to know that if I was leaving,
there was reason. She got in the car the
very next morning and pursued me eleven hours across Texas. And when she got there, she hugged me, loved
me, rolled up her sleeves and helped me without asking anything or demanding to
know why.
In the two years since then, my life has completely
changed. Not only did I move closer, but
I also let her back in my life. We are
probably closer now than we ever have been.
There have been bumps for sure.
We’ve had to work through the process of some appropriate boundaries and
the change of being in close proximity again.
But she still pursues me. Because
she’s my mom. And that’s what mom’s do.
My mom is an amazing woman.
She survived the loss of the love of her life. She raised four great kids. She stood by two of us through terrible and
unexpected divorces and one through a terrible, heart breaking loss. She listens to her kids when we let her in
and doesn’t push when we don’t. She is
the best organizer and filer on the planet and will gladly come over and
conquer your stacks of paper for a diet coke.
She hauls the grandkids and takes them forgotten homework. She surprises her daughter in law with loads
of washed, dried, and folded laundry and her daughter with a cleaned apartment. She would do the same for her long distance
daughter in law if she were near. She
isn’t a dog person at all but asks me about Lola regularly. She pets and loves her “grand-dog” because
she is her daughter’s “baby”. And
through all of this, she continues the raising of a 25 year old mentally
retarded adult. I could sing her praises
for that alone for another twenty pages.
I am phenomenally blessed to have a mom who has never quit
pursuing me.
Love you mom. Happy
Mother’s Day.
