This story is for those who feel imperfect, even broken at times, in their role as caregiver in a child’s life. There is hope, my friend. There is hope.
A few months ago, I received an email message from a reader of my blog. It immediately got my attention due to the fact it was from a “Hands Free” dad, and it contained 3,385 words. A stranger named Brian was handing me a sacred story, a monumental piece of his life, to do whatever I was moved to do with it.
I will be honest; it was a lot to take in. And I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with it. I couldn’t promise Brian I would use his story, but I could promise that I would take time to think about and process it. I knew that if his story was meant to be shared in this space I call “Hands Free Mama,” I would not be able to stop the words—because that is just how things work on this journey.
So I went on about living. And about a month ago, my youngest child started a new line of questioning. Here is a sample:
“How long will you be alive?”
“How many years do you have left before you die?”
“When will you go to heaven?”
“Will you be buried with your wedding ring on?”
“Are you old?”
Almost daily, there is a new question revolving around how much time I have left on this earth. I have tried to answer my child’s questions as optimistically, yet as honestly, as I can.
But on the morning my daughter proudly announced she had written a new entry in her “Talk Time” journal, I was taken aback. Since giving it to her in December, she has never written in it by herself—only when we're together. But on that day, I was instructed to look at it while she was at school. This is what I saw:
My 5 year old's message reads: "Best mom ever. I love you (you). Hope you have fun in heaven. I will be one of your favortites." At the bottom is "Angel Mom."
Hugging the journal to my chest, I balled myself up into the corner of her bedroom and cried. I can’t pinpoint exactly why I felt so distraught … perhaps it was because I felt an unsettling premonition about my fate, or maybe it was because I was hit with the undisputable awareness that my children would someday be here without me.
But just as suddenly as the thought of my inevitable death brought me to the floor, I was overcome with a sense of peace—peace that wrapped its loving arms around me and stopped my tears.
What popped into my mind was this profound realization:
Almost two years ago I began my “Hands Free” journey because I was missing the NOW, because I yearned to let go of daily distraction and grasp the moments that matter. But yet, I always felt like there was something more to living “Hands Free.”
And now I knew what it was.
Living “Hands Free” is a gift you give your child NOW that becomes something eternal, forever lasting within your child LATER.
And I had the evidence to prove it.
I raced out of my child’s room, taking two stairs at a time to arrive at the haphazard pile of papers on my desk. I tore through the stack until I found the story a stranger had handed to me in good faith, knowing that in time, I would use it for good.
And now is the time.
This is Brian’s story …
My mom had many names of affection: Mom, Mommy, DeAnn, Dee Dee, Adina, Grandma. She was many things to many people—but to me, she was everything.
My mom worked outside the home while also being “hands on” with our family. She lived her life for us, somehow making every moment special for each of her seven kids. Yes, seven kids! Can you imagine having seven kids and managing to make each one feel like one of the magnificent seven?
Well, that’s exactly what my mom did.
My family endured the typical struggles for a just-below middle class family, but what we lacked in money and material items, we made up for by having each other—most importantly, by having our mother. She loved us openly with a smile, soft hands, and a hug that just made everything feel better.
My mom was so much about others—about her kids, friends, family and loved ones, even those she barely knew. She worked in a nursing home when I was young, and she would take me with her on days I was out of school. I was in awe of her reaction to the residents and in turn, how they reacted to her. Again, it was her warm, soft hands, her smile, her patience, and her ability to listen—the residents loved her and trusted her for the same reasons that my brothers and sisters did.
My mom loved to read, but it was romance novels and Stephen King, not self-help books on how to be a better parent. She wasn’t educated in the sense of a degree, she just instinctively knew what we needed. For each of her seven children, she handled things by just being there. She never had anything of monetary value to give us, but what she did have was time. TIME. No matter what she was in the middle of doing, she would always stop when one of her kids came to talk to her.
The way my mom listened made me feel understood. I can hear her saying, “Brian, honey, let those little things go; I love you,” or “It’s just a phase, Brian; I love you.” Whether I was head over heels with a girl at age 16 or debating on what shirt to wear, she was always there with an encouraging word and a smile.
Many times, just by simply talking things through with my mom, worries would turn to laughter. No matter what my brothers and sisters faced in life, Mom taught us that being able to laugh and stay positive was the best way to survive in this world.
On the day I left my family and everything I knew to serve in the Air Force, the last hug I received was from my mom. As always, the embrace was accompanied with words of encouragement and ended with “I love you.” Virtually every sentence my mom ever spoke to me ended with the words “I love you.”
My mom lived her life and loved her children to her fullest potential. Perhaps that is why when she was dealt with cancer’s merciless hand, she faced her impending departure with courage and grace.
My dad confided that when he was at one of his lowest points, devastated by the cancer that was invading her body and their beautiful life, he cried, “DeAnn, aren’t you mad? You don’t seem like this bothers you.”
My mom’s response reflected the way she had lived her whole life.
She replied, “I’m not mad; I could sit here and ask, ‘God, why me?’ But instead I ask, ‘Why not me?’ Why wouldn’t God want me?”
My mom lived her 61 years of life for her family. I’m sure she made mistakes along the way, but I don’t remember them. I only remember that she smiled and hugged with soft hands. She laughed a lot and finished her sentences with the words “I love you.”
———————————————-
That is the story of Brian’s mom, but the story does not end here. This is where the hope begins, friends. Because now that you know Brian’s mom, I want you to know Brian. Inadvertently, Brian gave me a second story, and this is where hope for the now AND hope for the future comes in; this is where hope for you and hope for me emerges.
Let me tell you about Brian …
Brian is a divorced father of two, ages 14 and 10. He encourages his kids to talk to him about anything. And when they do, he strives to remain calm and non-judgmental—simply listen and help them feel understood. Brian realizes that with all the distractions of the modern age, he is not the perfect listener, but he is trying; he is trying.
When Brian’s kids are with him, he makes a point to cook dinner so they can sit down together at the table for conversation and fellowship. In the hustle and bustle of life, sometimes a quick meal is necessary and a family dinner doesn’t always happen, but Brian is trying; he is trying.
Brian’s daily goal is to laugh with his kids, and let go of the things that tend to cause frustration and discouragement. Brian strives to cherish the simple moments and keep what is important in perspective. Due to the stress of life, work, and parenting, sometimes Brian isn’t always able to cherish the moments that matter, but he is trying; he is trying.
Although Brian realizes there are days he falls short on being the parent he strives to be, he hears a loving voice telling him not to give up. This same voice reminds him that there is one area where he always gets it right:
Brian never fails to express love to his children. He never fails to tuck his kids in bed. And he never fails to say the words, “I love you”—sometimes even whispering the words as he kisses their foreheads as they've gone to sleep.
Because at the end of the day, Brian knows it's all about the love … love that is accessible, warm, open, continuous—like the love his mom gave him that he is now passing on to his kids.
As I have worked on today's post over the past several weeks, I’ve been spending my precious time a little more purposefully than I have in the past …
Lingering with my kids a little longer at bedtime …
Offering them more hugs …
Holding on a bit longer …
Making eye contact the whole time she speaks to me …
Providing more signs of love in her lunch box and on her bed …
More smiles, less frowns …
Ending more sentences with the words, “I love you.”
And what has created a newfound hope throughout the trying days on which I feel I’ve failed miserably as a parent is this:
It’s not about trying to be a perfect parent to my kids; it is about trying to provide a love that is perfect for them.
Because it is the love that sticks with them.
It is the love that they pass on.
It is the love that will endure, even after I am gone.
My friends, let go of distraction and perfection so you can LOVE—love without conditions and without restraint.
Live “Hands Free.” Love “Hands Free.” It’s the eternal, forever gift that YOU, and only you, can give your children.
*******************************************************
Your “Hands Free” challenge today is this:
Focus on the color of their eyes.
Memorize the sound of their voice.
Hug until your arms grow tired.
Say “I love you” until your voice grows weak.
It is not about the mistakes of the past, nor is it about the person you were yesterday. It is about the choices you make today, and how you want to be remembered.
Love them.
Just love them.
That is all.
End of story.
Beautiful piece, Rachel.
Thank you, Deb! I cherish every piece of feedback from my readers. It is so nice to know when something I have posted touches someone.
You have such a special gift for insight and reflection, Rachel! I was just thinking last night, as my son kept me up with a fever and I held him half the night, “I love you so much. I love you so much.” It helped me keep my sanity and patience.
Thank you, Kristin. You bring up such a great point … to view our struggles or inconveniences with our children as an opportunity to provide love, it changes our whole attitude. It hasn’t always been that way for me, but seeing it from this perspective has made me a much happier parent. I really appreciate you taking time to comment.
Beautiful! Thank you so much for this moving piece. My older sold, Brendan who is 4 has been asking me about Heaven a lot and how long we will be here, etc-he doesn’t want me to “get old”-I think because sometimes we read “I’ll Love You Forever” and he realized the mom passed away. It’s those special talks we have together at bedtime that mean so much to me. Sometimes I can be impatient because I have other things to tend to but I’ve been trying to take it all in because I know it won’t be like this forever. Thanks for sharing your insight and journey! It’s a nice reminder of what really matters. Brian’s story was beautiful and what a wonderful mother he had-an inspiration to us all!
Thank you for sharing, Kim! I can relate to what you say … sometimes those “deep” questions come at the most inconvenient times, but I am so grateful that she comes to ME to ask them. And I find that once I “let go” of my own agenda to listen and respond, the other “stuff” becomes meaningless in comparison. Thank you for taking time to share your thoughts!
What a beautiful post. Thank you (and thank you to Brian as well) for sharing this.
Thank you, Michelle. I cherish comments like yours.
What a lovely piece with impeccable timing. This is just what I needed today. Tempers have been short this week with Dad out of town and everyone missing him. Tonight there will be more hugs and I Love Yous God willing.
Thank you for sharing. I can totally relate to your experience today. There are days when I desperately need to be reminded that time is precious and fleeting. It is sometimes so hard to remember that moments of frustration are as much gifts of time as are the moments of joy. I appreciate you taking time to read and share your thoughts. Hope you enjoyed lots of hugs tonight!
Thank you. As a single mom and full time student with 3 boys – I needed this gentle reminder.
You are so welcome, Melanie. It means a lot to know you found a little inspiration and hope in this message.
Wow, if my girls would remember even those simple things about me? I’d say I’d won the game of life. Great story. Thanks for sharing.
Well said, my eloquent friend, well said.
This was beautiful. Thank you. I have not been hands free enough lately but I feel like I had a pretty good day today. This blog is my daily reminder to keep trying harder and to put my phone DOWN!
Thank you, Rebecca! Because we live in a highly distracted, electronically connected world, We ALL need these reminders. And I love that you take it day by day. One of my favorite quotes is “Every moment is a chance to start over.” On this Hands Free journey, it is about TODAY and the choices we make to grasp the moments that matter TODAY. So happy you’re here!
Even though you are a gifted writer, your true talent lies in your ability to see the heart of a matter. I’m so glad I found your blog!
Wow. Wow. Wow. I find myself reading and re-reading your message. I am touched beyond words by your compliment. Thank you. These are words I will NEVER forget in my lifetime. You have blessed me immeasurably today.
Thank you! I’m just returning the favor!
thanks a lot for sharing, as a young mother it gives me a lot of information/tips on how to become a good mother to my 1 year 8 months daugther. i would love to read more of your articles. God Bless You
Armie, it makes me SO happy to know you are reading and gaining value from my messages. Those early days in parenting can be exhausting and uncertain. It is my honor to share my experiences and allow other parents to “take the pressure off.” I wish I had done it sooner, but I am not living in regret. I am making new choices now and living life to the fullest. I am so happy you are here!
Hi, thanks for a great post Rachel, and this is a message for Brian:
Hi Brian, my dad was a divorced father as well. He was only able to see my brother and I every two weeks and sometimes holidays, and he was far from perfect. However, like you he made SUCH an effort to let my brother and i know we were loved. He would listen to us as we talked, he called nearly every single night and he sang songs with us and played his guitar for us. He died suddenly when I was sixteen. My dad, a man who struggled with addiction his whole life died from drinking and driving. Sure that made me angry, but you know what- he got the big stuff right. My brother and I have never questioned whether we were loved. We both have strong memories of songs that told us how valuable we were, memories of laughing and chatting, memories which sustain me to this day. So, anyway, cheers to you and your kids, sounds like you’re doing a great job getting the important stuff right!
Alissa, thank you for sharing a sacred piece of your life so that others may gain hope and strength. I celebrate your words: “He got the big stuff right.” That’s it! You nailed it. I may fail in the little things, but I CAN get the big stuff right. You have given us ALL hope. I have sent your message directly to Brian. I know he will be touched beyond words. Thank you for taking the time to share this meaningful insight with us all. So grateful to have you on this journey.
Thank you Rachel & Brian for sharing your stories and telling them so beautifully. When I’m frustrated with my kids for tracking in mud, throwing not-yet-dirty clothes into the dirty laundry pile and making a big mess, I try to remember how lucky I am that they are healthy and happy and able to make these messes. I might get tired of cleaning them up all the time, but I try to keep seeing the positive.
Thank you, Lisa. I am right there with you. In those moments of frustration and annoyance, I try to remember how precious life is and what a GIFT I have been given. I’ll admit, sometimes I still take these blessings for granted, but I am working on it … I am much more aware than I was in the past. And I will accept that as progress and celebrate the moments I am grasping!
Thanks for sharing that sweet story. As a Mom, I pray that my little boys will someday think about me as Brian did about his mother.
Rachel as always you hit the nail on the head of how important our actions are!!!
Thank you, Stephanie. You encouraging words here (and in person) mean the WORLD to me! I am thankful to have you by my side on this journey to grasp what matters. XO
Beautiful and remarkable post! It brought me to tears. What a wonderful reminder that life isn’t about what you have but what you share with others. Thank you for the reminder to slow down and just enjoy my son and his whole self, fusses, tantrums and happy moments because they are all valuable and one day they will be missed. <3
I truly appreciate you taking time to express your appreciation for this story! I love your summarization that “life isn’t about what you have but what you share with others.” Beautiful stated!!!
In the past year and a half, I have lost my sister-in-law (47) and my very close friend (49), both to cancer. The losses are immense and have left a huge hole in my heart. I recently bought a beautiful print from http://www.curlygirldesign.com: “There are some who bring a light so great to the world that even after they have gone, the light remains.”
Both of these women were incredible role models to me; among other things, they loved their children passionately and unconditionally. They left a legacy of endless love.
My children (8 and 5) have very real worries about how long I am going to be here, and their questions pop up sporadically. As you said, I answer them as honestly and optimistically as I can.
I am grateful for every day, and I do my best to grasp what really matters and to LOVE my children every day. Thank you, Rachel, for helping me to do that.
Allison, your experience brings me to tears. I cannot imagine how these losses have impacted your life, as well as your children’s lives. The quote you mention is powerful. I believe every word of it. Such a notion, that your presence in the world can be felt even after you have gone, is truly hopeful for me. I thank you for sharing your wisdom. I learn as much from my readers as they do by reading my blog posts. It is so comforting to know we are all in this together, trying to make the most out of the precious time we have. Thank you for taking time to share.
I’m blown away by this story and am deeply grateful to my own parents who always let me know I was loved.
Always.
I’m trying. I’m trying.
Jane, thank you!! I, too, thought of my own parents while writing this. I try to tell them as often as we speak how grateful I am for their love and support, but I know I don’t do it often enough. Your message has prompted me to make a phone call tonight.
Lovely, as always, my friend. Much love to you.
Thank you, El. You know I treasure your support and authenticity on this journey. XO
Your posts are always so heart wrenching and convicting. Thank you so much. I need the reminders. I love the sweet hands of my babies and tonight as I held my daughter’s hand as she went to sleep I held it until I feel asleep. I never want to forget the feeling of her precious hands.
Then I read your post. Making eye contact is so important and something I forget to do. =( I will be trying harder to do that tomorrow.
Thank you for your beautiful posts. I really enjoy your pictures too. =)
Thank you for sharing your lovely insight, Jessica. Oh, those little hands. Yes, yes … I want to memorize those little dimples where knuckles will be. And I adore those little toes. So many miraculous details … What a blessing to be able to notice them and savor them. We need the reminders–that just means we’re human … but we’re trying; we’re trying. I am so glad you are here.
*sobbing pitifully* Thank you for the reminder that, while I have had a hellishly frustrating day with my almost-3-year-old (we are in the throes of toilet training – need I say more???!) this too shall pass and that tomorrow I need to slow down and remember to show her just how much I love her. Thank you.
Kris, thank you for taking time to comment! The toilet training days are some of the most difficult there are in the life of a parent, truly they are. I am thrilled to know that my post enabled you to take a breath and realize “this too shall pass.” I think back to the toilet training days, which were also the days when my daughter wore PJs with feet in them. She would wake up with a smile, and I would pick her up in those little “jam jams” and just smell her scent. I wouldn’t want to go back to the potty training, but I do ANYTHING to see my baby in her footie pjs again! Thanks for joining me on this journey!
Rachel, you are an angel to me. I found your blog when I was looking for exactly this. Your story is so inspiring and helps me remember what is truly important in life..love and family. Please tell me you are writing a book because I would love to have it!
Oh wow, Tali! You have given me a beautiful message of encouragement at precisely the moment it was needed today. Thank you for that. And yes, I am writing a book. My book proposal was recently accepted by a literary agent, so I am praying a book deal is near. Thank you for the confidence booster. It is so good to know that you would buy it! Thank YOU!!!
Beautiful message…..it’s a wonderful “Mother’s Day” testimony as well, even though there is another month before “Mother’s Day.” Thank you for sharing what the Lord puts on your heart each week. It touches so many. You motivate the masses Rachel! YOU are a wonderful example of living “Hands Free.” Love you
Thank you, Susie! I respect and admire you so much! Encouragement like this coming from you means the world to me.
Heartfelt & wonderful, Rachel. Even as someone who is not a parent, it makes me think about the importance of living in the moment & of not taking anything or anyone for granted. Brian gave you & all your readers a wonderful, inspirational story. xo
Thank you, Becca. It touches me to know that people of all walks of life–married, single, kids, no kids–find value in my messages. I appreciate you taking the time to tell me you are here.
What a wonderful post! I just discovered your blog (and it is a new favourite) today and I am excited to catch up on all I have missed. You have a true gift!
Thank you, Jen. I love it when new people visit my blog, but what makes me even more happy is when they want to read beyond the post that brought them here. Thank you for letting me know. That makes my day!
Thank you for this blog, and what a wonderful reminder of how easily we can become distracted by life. My husband recently decided he’s leaving me. We have a 1 year old and a 2 year old. Our biggest struggle and argument was that he spent too much time at work and on his phone. He was physically there, but mentally he was engrossed by his phone and business. It hurt me so bad that nothing I did or said could make him realize what he was missing. I pray that now that I wont be there to take care of everything when he has the kids, he will be forced to check in more.
Jessica, thank you so much for sharing this. You have really brought home the damage distraction can have on our relationships. I am truly sorry for what you have been through. Your children are very blessed to have such a present mother who has a grasp on what really matters. I wish you only the best in the days ahead.
This is beautiful. My 6 yr old has been asking me a lot of questions about death, about if we are going to die, telling me she doesn’t want to die. She has also been yelling at me that I’m always on the computer or on the phone and don’t play with them. Then I came across your post “How to miss a childhood” and I was floored. Then I read “The children have spoken”. I was floored again. Last night we had family time out. My husband was doing the usual, playing a game on his phone on his day off. I asked him to put it away because I read something and we need to put away our phones and focus on the girls. To my surprise, he put it away. Immediately after, he brushed their hair which was so precious. We had a nice time out with them just watching them play. He had not touched his phone once the entire night after that. I only turned mine on to take pictures of them. I am so glad I found your blog. I have a blog that has been consuming me and I have been wanting to be with my girls and husband more than keep actively posting things for others. I am looking forward to reading more and following you. Ultimately to changing my ways and having a more present and connected relationship with my family. Thank you so much for your example and for having resources for us to lean on. xoxo
wow.
You know that feeling when you’ve read something that you know is really meaningful and is going to have an effect on your life? I have just had that feeling reading this post.
I’ve just recently read both your books. When i finished Hands Free Life I turned back to the beginning and started again because there was do much there I wanted to reflect on.
But this post for whether reason feels powerful to me.
I’ll have to think about why it’s felt so powerful. Perhaps because my son, after the passing of his grandmother very recently, has been asking us a lot about life and death and when we’re going to die. Perhaps because after my recent scare that I might have cancer (I don’t, thank goodness) I spent a few weeks worrying about my own future and what legacy I would leave my kids. Perhaps it’s because I too tell my kids how much I live them all the time, to the point where people have made comments about it, suggesting I say it too much. It could be that because like Brian I am trying so hard to do those things too. I don’t always manage it, but I try.
Whatever the reason, I will spend a lot of time reflecting after reading this. Thank you