Happy Mother’s Day, but actually

Hope y’all had a wonderful Sunday with your mamas. Mom wanted us to spread mulch and do yard work as her gift, so that’s what we did. I’m embarrassed to say my back is tight and super sore from it.

As a follow up to my previous post, my mother read it today and said “Do you want me to call the orphanage now so you can start setting up the adoption process?”

God love that woman. Now everyone knows where I get it from.

(Mom and I, circa Summer of 1990. I’m
chubs and she’s got sweet leftover 80s hair.)

Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

something a little different

So, I know that I usually blog about crafts, make up, and couponing (good Lord, could I be more of a girl?!), but lately I’ve been thinking about something that I need to discuss, even if it’s just to “myself” (or the, like, 6 people who read this. Love you guys). That’s right y’all, I’m going to discuss something I usually avoid like the plague: my feelings.

This thought all started about a week ago. My grandmother has been recovering from surgery, and my mom and I went to visit her at the OT facility. As we walked in the hallway, I was struck by something I usually never consider: people’s lives are going on around me. Shallow? Maybe. But I’ve always had a hard time considering where I’ll be when I’m 40 (married? cat lady? 8 children? living in Switzerland?), let alone when I’m 80 years old.  As we walked along, I realized that many of these people don’t have anyone left in their lives except the hospital staff that work there. Where are their loved ones? Had they ever been married? Did they miss those times?

Then the thought kind of developed. My grandfather died when I was 9. I adored him and still think about him all the time. That was 15 (!!) years ago, and my grandmother struggles to recall memories without getting choked up. She supported him throughout the (very quick) struggle with cancer, and is still the most wonderful grandmother I could have asked for. But now, she has to lean on us for support (although I know Papa’s up there watching us everyday. I can feel him with me all the time), which I’m sure when she was my age, she never imagined she’d have to do.

Struck with this, I tried to put myself in her shoes. Trying to imagine myself at 80 was difficult. What memories would I have? I’d sure like being in love with someone to be included in those memories. But this was proof that life ain’t always pretty, folks. There’s a lot of ugly. What did I want in a significant other that would support me through death, illness, being broke, bad times, etc.?

This thought has been plaguing me ever since. And today, I read a quote in Glamour (I know, shut up) about the Boston Marathon Bombing and two people that have loved each other through their trials enough to get married. Right after the bombing, she said to her then-boyfriend: “I want to do this with you, but I understand if you can’t do it.” Whoa. Talk about loving someone unselfishly. Talk about trusting someone with the absolute completeness of your soul. Do I have that in me? I’m not sure. But here’s what I do know.

Relationships are awesome, but they’re also work. Life is beautiful, but it can be ugly too. Forever means working through death, illness, babies, jobs, family, friendships, happiness, sadness, what have you. You have to find someone that loves you when you’re a pain in the ass and when you’re dressed to the 9s (channeling your “inner ‘yonce” if you will). You have to find someone who will tell you when you’re being ugly, when you’re doing something they’re proud of, and when you’re being a bitch. Sexual attraction isn’t everything, because that fades. You have to find someone who loves you when you’re 24 and when you’re 84. Relationships are so much more than who you are right now. I know it may seem like I’m selfish, or a brat, or what have you, but it’s taken me a long time to realize that. I’m not the same as I was at 16, 18, or even 21; I’m sure as hell not going to be the same when I’m 30. At this point in my life, finding love has to mean finding someone who’s okay with all that.

Daunting, but doable.