You'll Want to Read This: Mom's Guest Post

Dear friends, for starters, I would just like to say a big thank you to all of you for the texts, emails, and comments about my divorce. This whole ordeal has been incredibly tough on me and, at times, made me feel very lonely, so getting such comfort from all of you has been a refreshing reminder that there are those out there who care, even from hundreds of miles away.

Today I have a guest post from a very special person to me: my mother. My mom has been here for me in this struggle from the day I found out about Scott's deceit and she has watched me try to rebuild myself month after month. My mother is an incredible writer and she wrote a short "story", if you will, about my battle, from an outside perspective; what it has been like to watch me fight, as my mother.

 
It was just like a fairytale the first time they saw each other. Their eyes met across a crowded room and they began to make their way towards each other until their hands met. The sparks in the air were palpable. Love at first sight does happen and it happened to them that summer day. I know because I was there and witnessed the whole scene play out. In fact, I looked around to see if anyone else was catching this amazing, romantic moment. I remember thinking as I left the theatre that day, "Well, my baby girl has just met the man she's going to marry." And she did marry him in a beautiful, kind-of-stuff-dreams-are-made-of wedding. They stood before friends and family and made the most beautiful promises to each other and then as all good fairytale consumers know, they were supposed to "live happily ever after". But, we live in the real world, not a fairytale. The handsome leading man led an ugly, double life. Prince Charming proved not to be. And my baby girl woke up one morning in a world where she could be a baby no longer. My heart broke for her, but her heart was shattered in a million splinters of pain and shards of a dreamed-of life that would never be. Life as she knew it, life as she wanted it ended that awful August day. And there was nothing I could do about it.


As parents, we try to protect our children from every threat, every injustice and every aspect of pain they might ever encounter. The sad truth is, that is a futile mission. At best, we can only try to prepare them to deal with every threat, every injustice and every aspect of pain they will, inevitably, encounter. I did not know in August if my daughter was prepared to deal with the incredibly painful situation she found herself in. I never felt so useless as a parent as I did those first few weeks trying to help Paula navigate through the remnants of her happily never after, dividing up possessions, consulting lawyers, seeking medical advice and trying to help her hold on to one very important aspect of her young life ... her schooling. Her world crashed during the first week of the first semester of her senior year of college. She had put off her senior year to marry and help her "loving hubby" through college first, but he was unwilling to return the favor and suggested that she leave school and move home. We sought the advice of college staff and counselors, all of whom seemed to agree that given Paula's emotional state at that time that it would probably be best for her if she "took a semester off" until she was stronger. She confided in me that if she took a semester off, she was afraid she would never return. I was afraid so too. We were at our last stop on the trail to get advice on how Paula could get help to get through the semester when I found myself once again looking around the room to see if anyone else was catching what was happening. Of course, they weren't, because nobody else but me knew my baby girl. One of the deans of the college, who by the way was a very kind, empathetic listener, was lobbying hard to get Paula to take a little time off, when Paula remarked, "But I already gave him too much." I don't think the dean understood her remark and I didn't fully understand either until I saw the expression on Paula's face change from pain to SMUSH. Yes, I said SMUSH. I'll explain that in a minute, but I knew at that moment that Paula had decided that she had given up college once for the man she thought was going to be there to help her get that degree someday and she was not going to let him take that away from her again. I knew right then, that the decision had been made and it was not the easy route. Paula was going to battle her way through the betrayal, the divorce, the medical issues, the emotional issues, the loss of her apartment, the lonliness, the demands of school and work and the incredibly terrifying prospect of doing it all by her 23-year-old self. The SMUSH face said it all.

I don't remember exactly the first time I saw the SMUSH face, but I know Paula had mastered the look by the time she was a toddler. It is the look that comes over her face whenever she has made a decision that comes not just from her head or her heart, but from her very core. It happens whenever she makes a decision that she won't back down from. It's her "true grit". It's her "Stand and fight and take no prisoners!" look. It's Mel Gibson in Braveheart without the kilt-flipping, of course. Paula is, after all, a lady. I won't go into how it became known as the SMUSH face, perhaps that's a topic for another blog, and while the name sounds soft, believe me, it is a solid testament to her mettle. (mettle: Noun: A person's ability to cope well with difficulties or to face a demanding situation in a spirited and resilient way. Synonyms: spirit - nature - temperament - character). And I knew there was no arguing with the SMUSH face. We thanked the dean and left the office, both knowing that Paula was going to stay right where she was and finish school. She is now only weeks away from her degree and yes, I'm busting my buttons with pride. Yes, Paula may vacillate between chunky boots and sling back pumps. She may go back and forth between silver eye shadow or navy. She's still trying to decide if pattern is back in a big way in her wardrobe, and, please, don't ever ask her to decide what restaurant to go to, but Paula has made a huge decision about her life. She has decided it's her life to decide about. It is not going to be what she dreamed of. It is not going to be what she had wanted it to be. It is going to be what it is going to be, and she will be making the decisions about what each next step will be. She is on her way to her hopefully, happily whatever after. Maybe it's not the stuff fairytales are made of, but it is definitely the stuff real life is made of. And real life, after all, with the good the bad and the ugly, is where we all have to live.


I love you, Paula, with all my heart and I believe in the power of P!

As several of you out there are new parents who haven't had to deal with issues like this for your babies, I wish them and you nothing but happiness and pray that none of you ever have to write a testimonial under the same circumstances for your children. However, if you do, isn't this a beautiful way of letting someone know you care? Thank you, Mama- I will love you always.