Well, these last couple of months have certainly been interesting ones – full of emotional ups and downs. I feel quite drained. I’m so glad God invented chocolate, coffee and wine.
Heir Number One made a big relationship call recently – the right decision but an extremely hard one, for both parties. And it will be hard for a while yet. I’m so glad he’s now living in the Upper Room. It means we’re able to be there for him a lot more during this difficult time.
Interesting how people don’t tell you before you have children that this parenting thing is really, truly for life. That their pain and anguish will also be your pain and anguish, the whole way through. But I guess that’s where the richness comes in. The “I will be here for you, no matter what. I will love and support you when it’s all good and you are having a great old time. I will also be there to pick up the pieces with you when things fall apart. To cry with you and to hurt with you. And to point you again to God – the best Parent of all.” This is what my parents did for me. This is what I will always seek to do for my two, God help me.
I need to balance out these comments about my parenting anguish though by letting you know that I too had to make a very difficult decision work-wise this week. My first-born has been an absolute tower of strength for me during this time, and has provided some fantastic words of wisdom as I’ve struggled to come to my decision. So, having him around has worked out jolly well.
These last couple of months have also included some good conversations with a fellow word-lover. I use that term in place of “writer”. I don’t consider myself a real writer. I just talk with my fingers. But this other person, well, I would classify her as a real writer. In fact, I shall name her Mrs Write. I have known Mrs Write for a long time – getting on for three decades now. It seems incredible to me to add up all those years, because it has only been since our return from France that I have even started really getting to know her. I had been told that she had used WordPress in the past and I had an issue with my WordPress blog that I just could not seem to find an answer to. She wasn’t able to help me with that problem (I finally got an answer through the amazing WordPress tutorials – LOVE those things!), but that was the beginning of our real conversations. The first one started a bit like this….
(Paraphrased)
Me: “I’ve been writing a blog in WordPress. I hear you’ve used it before. Can you help me with this?”
Mrs W: “Ah, unfortunately no. I have had that same issue in WordPress but have not yet found an answer. But hey, a blog? Interesting. Would you mind sharing it with me?”
Me: “Sure thing… blah blah blah…have loved writing it so much that I have continued to write since coming home…”
Mrs W: “Really? Interesting. I too love to write. What sort of things are you writing about?
Me: “You do? Huh, I never knew that! Me, well, I sorta have a dream, but it’s a bit crazy and I would feel embarrassed sharing it with you…”
Mrs W: “Share away, please. I too have crazy dreams, believe me.”
So, although rather apprehensive, share away I did.
Since that first conversation, it has been quite amazing to discover another soul sister in this strange new space I’ve found myself in. Mrs Write commented that in a way, our initial conversations have been like looking into a mirror. I quite agree. I feel we have many more exciting conversations ahead of us, although I have had to be open from the start about just what an insecure nutcase I really am. She hasn’t seemed to mind too much so far. Hmm, I wonder if there is a French word for nutcase? I should probably find that out. I might need it.
A few days before that, I had met up with a fabulously talented young woman who, again, I have known for a few years, but really only at a surface level. She is an artist who started her own design business during lockdown. I have seen her gorgeous social media posts and even own one of her fabulous art works myself. Having just ventured into the world of social media in an extremely fumbling way, I had recently chatted to her for a few minutes about my very amateur attempts. She very kindly suggested that we get together. She wanted to hear about my trip to France and my hopes for the future, and see if she could give me some tips on how to move forward using some social media platforms. She is an extremely busy mother of two very busy little boys, and I was so grateful that she would offer me her time and friendship. Again, although somewhat nervous to share my fledgling dream, I found myself confiding in this wonderful young woman over a cup of tea, in her home, with the movie soundtrack of Encanto playing in the background, a favourite of her darling wee son, who reminds me so much of my own.
These encounters and experiences over the last couple of months have been in different ways, precious, exciting, difficult, emotional and exhausting. I think it’s because they’ve involved a lot of vulnerability. Vulnerability is not easy. In fact it is quite scary. It comes with a risk of rejection and disapproval, of humiliation and embarrassment. But it also opens up the possibility of huge encouragement and confirmation. Being vulnerable is an important part of a true friendship. Without it, a relationship will only ever be at a surface level. Without allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, we will never open up to the possibility of following our dreams, or even dreaming at all. And we would never be able to relinquish all of this into the hands of our ultimate Parent.
It’s “cinglé” by the way – the nutcase thing. It means crazy actually. Same, same but…well actually pretty same.
Ps. If you would like to see some of the amazing work my wee Encanto fan’s Mummy does, have a look here:
Over To France 
Leave a comment