“I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.”
- Walt Whitman
I recently attended an informational meeting for fifth grade parents at the middle school my daughter will be attending this fall. After swallowing the lump in my throat caused by the undeniable reality of why I was sitting there, I settled in to absorb everything the staff had to offer about parenting a middle schooler. But within the first five minutes of the presentation, I got stuck. It was something the assistant principal said.
“You might think opening their locker or having seven teachers is the greatest worry for sixth graders on that first day of school—but it’s not. In general, their biggest source of angst is knowing how they’re getting home.”
The administrator proceeded to explain where bus routes could be accessed during the summer months, but I was only half listening. All I could think about was this:
They just want to know how they’re getting home.
My mind returned to one particularly trying day in my own middle school career. I’d forgone the city bus and made a long walk home, crying all the way. I’d gotten my first C, and I was devastated. When I got to the door, my grandma opened it. I’d forgotten she was spending the week with us. I quickly wiped my snotty face and forced a smile, but Grandma couldn’t be fooled.
“Rachel, what’s wrong?” she exclaimed. Despite the prominent wrinkles on my grandma’s heart-shaped face, I saw worry lines appear between her eyes.
“I got a C on my math test, Grandma,” I confessed between sobs.
Grandma immediately pulled me to her chest. Her shaky hands smoothed my hair lovingly. And then she said the words I needed to hear. “Rachel, no one is going to be mad at you. Your mama and daddy love you, no matter what.” And then she looked directly into my red, puffy face and said, “I love you.”
They just want to know how they’re getting home, the school administrator had said.
And I would add:
They just want to know there will be a welcoming smile and two open arms waiting for them, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what kind of day they’ve had.
After the parent meeting I picked up my almost middle schooler from swim team practice. She energetically jumped in the car and greeted me with a cheerful, “Hey Mom!”
It appeared that her earlier grouchiness had washed away with flip turns and dolphin kicks. And that is how it was lately. One minute she was impatient, exasperated, touchy, and annoyed. The next minute she was silly, tender, kind, and delightful. While on a recent family bike ride, she lowered her face while we waited on the traffic light to change. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew she was hoping no one from school would see her. At her age, I too was easily embarrassed, especially when it came to my family.
Yes, there was no denying that my child’s bright smile seemed to appear less frequently these days. She had new worries, new challenges, and new emotions accompanying her eleventh year growth. And this period of uncertainty reflected in her fluctuating smile.
“How was swim team, hon?” I asked. My daughter told me about a competition they had and something funny the coach said. In the rearview mirror I could see her looking pensively out the window, the ends of her wet hair starting to curl. Her beautiful face looked so fresh and hopeful. Suddenly she didn’t look so mature or so moody. Perhaps the words of the assistant principal had softened my heart. This child was a human being going through a period of change and uncertainty. She just wanted to know she was accepted and loved. I decided I could be a little more understanding … a little more assuring … a little more forgiving like my grandmother, even when (and especially when) my child’s smile was absent.
The next day, something unexpected happened. My mom called and I immediately noticed she sounded different. Something was wrong.
“I’ve been diagnosed with Bell’s Palsy,” Mom blurted out. She explained that the left side of her face had no feeling.
Although it had only been an hour since she got home from the emergency room, Mom quickly realized the challenges she’d be facing until the paralysis subsided. She could not blink her left eye, and speaking and eating would be difficult. But my mother’s voice did not crack until she talked about stopping to get medication at the drug store.
“I didn’t realize how often I smile at people until I couldn’t. I couldn’t smile when people smiled at me,” she cried.
Of all the losses she suddenly faced, the loss of her smile was the one that made her cry.
Later that night, I realized how my mother’s situation related to the assistant principal’s words and my own experience with my grandmother.
We just want to know how we’re getting home.
We just want to know there will be a welcoming smile and open arms waiting, no matter what we’ve done … no matter what kind of day we’ve had … and no matter how we look.
Since my mom lives 500 miles away, my daughters and I got right to work on a care package to lift her spirits. Inside a card I wrote some of the same words her mother told me the day I walked home worried about how I would be received:
I love you no matter what.
You are strong.
You will get through this.
I will support you and pray for you.
Your positivity comes from inside. Nothing can change that.
My daughter made soap using shea butter and coffee beans (her Grandma’s favorite) and wrote a card that said:
“However you may look or feel, know that you’re always beautiful and loved!”
As I handed the care package to the postal worker it was all I could do not get on that delivery truck so I could open my arms to my mom and let her know my love was unconditional, my embrace a safe haven.
That night I was feeling sad and worried. I offered to get my family ice cream sundaes knowing I could use a little time in the car with my music and my thoughts. I ended up crying the whole way, missing the support of my friends in my old city, missing my parents, and wishing I could be there to help them. I pulled up to the drive-thru window makeup-less and cheerless. But you wouldn’t have known it by the way the man with blue-rimmed glasses and rosy cheeks greeted me. I actually looked away in embarrassment. I looked so awful. I felt so empty. But he just kept beaming at me. He handed me my change, and also some hope. I came home and wrote the following passage—words inspired by three special people: a restaurant worker whose smile had healing powers, a fifth grader whose smile is erratic, and a 74-year-old woman whose smile is gone for awhile.
Step Stool Smile
I reached for my icy treats and the cashier looked right at me and smiled warmly
Like sunshine warmly
Like Grandma’s arms warmly
Like soothing lullaby warmly
I looked away.
I didn’t want to be seen. I felt ugly. Unkempt. A mess of sorts.
But there he was, smiling at me. Looking right at me like I wasn’t ugly. Like I wasn’t a mess.
And for one brief moment I realized the ugliness I felt inside might not be apparent on the outside.
And for one brief moment I realized maybe I was being too hard on myself (again).
And for one brief moment I realized I didn’t have to hide.
I took that stranger’s smile so freely given to me and I used it as a step stool
To reach my own grace, my own courage, my own hope
That felt so far away.
Now here I am.
Some days, I am the smiler.
Some days, I am the one who wants to look away.
When I am the smiler, I smile warmly. Because the warm smile has the power to go down deep and shoo away the painful thoughts that make a good person want to hide.
And when I am the one who wants to look away, I don’t.
I take that warmth so freely given to me and I hold it to my face like sunshine,
Like my grandma’s arms,
Like a soothing lullaby
Bringing love to the hurting places in my soul I cannot reach today.
* * *
My mom has temporarily lost her smile due to a health condition. My daughter’s smile comes and goes due to adolescence. Mine is a little shaky these days—maybe yours is too. But all hope is not lost, my friends. In fact, there is great hope in these circumstances, and it is this:
Whether we wear a smile or not,
Whether we have our ducks in a row or they are running loose,
Whether we know what the future holds or have no clue,
Whether we are standing on solid ground or sinking sand,
We all share one commonality:
We just want to know how we’re getting home.
And we can get there, my friends. We can get there.
By loving each other with acceptance, grace, and unconditional love,
We can bring each other home.
*********************************************************
Dear friends of the Hands Free Revolution, I am looking forward to visiting several states this fall and early winter to speak about letting go of distraction, perfection, and pressure to grasp what matters most. Please see my Amazon Author Page which lists my three bestselling books if you are interested in delving in deeper to how I transformed my distracted, maxed out, joyless life.
Rachel's Fall 2017 Speaking Schedule:
- Mobile, AL– Friday, September 22, 2017. Focus Women’s Conference. Click here for tickets and information
- Cincinnati, OH– Saturday, October 14, 2017. Tom York Speaker Series located at Knox Presbyterian Church Auditorium in Cincinnati, Ohio. Details found here.
- Indiana, PA – Thursday, October 19, 2017. Indiana Regional Medical Spirit of Women Ladies Night Out. Click here to register.
- Ann Arbor, MI – Saturday, November 18, 2017 9am. “Limitless Potential” fundraising Brunchfor GIRLS ON THE RUN at Kensington Hotel. Ticket link coming soon.
- Homewood, AL – Friday, February 2, 2018 7pm. Trinty United Methodist Women Missions Fundraiser. More details coming soon.
Thank you for sharing your stories & your encouragements! The comment section of this blog and the Facebook page are pure gold because of you.
This was truly a loving, meaningful display of emotion and thoughtfulness.
Jim Horn
Thank you, Jim! I think your poetry is absolutely beautiful. I am so honored by your affirming words today. Thank you for being here.
Rachel, You have so many great things to say and so many great ways to say all of them.
JIm Horn
As a mother of a first year middle schooler, this post really resonated with me. Her smile has come less frequently but I can tell you that there is hope – she shares more with me now than she ever has. And it is all thanks to YOU! I have been reading your blog for awhile now and each time I come away with HOPE that things can be better – and somehow they are. I have tried hard to implement your loving ways – to listen when they want to be heard, to stop and let them do it “their way,” to show only love today. Thank you! Thank you for all that you share!
Oh Kim, thank you for telling me this. Knowing my stories are bringing a child and her mother closer is truly the greatest affirmation I could ever receive. I will think of you and your precious girl each night when my daughter shares her heart with me at nightly Talk Time. And it will make me smile. Grateful for you.
I really enjoyed this blog post but something that resonated with me as well was first, getting ready for middle school and second that your daughter was embarrassed to be seen with you. I highly recommend the book called Hold On to your Kids: Why parents need to matter more than peers. The author is Gordon Neufeld. Please know and learn about peer orientation,it’s a real thing and your kids need to value you, your family more than there peers.
Thank goodness there are still folks like you, Rachel, who are still willing to take the time to tell a story. The richness of your storytelling, the way you savor and choose the words in your lyric prose (I don’t know if you call it poetry) slows me down and often leaves me wishing for more. A new book, perhaps? I sometimes wonder about this medium but you… you make it shine. Peace to you, as always. “Thank goodness” I began this, and you are that goodness, thanks.
Oh Bill, your words ALWAYS bring the happiest tears to my eyes. I respect you as a writer & human being so much — which makes your observations about my stories and prose even more meaningful. I am so glad you mentioned a new book. My second one, HANDS FREE LIFE, has made it through its final stages of editing and will be making its debut into the world on September 8. I love it so much and cannot wait to share it with my beloved community. I just got word that my publisher has accepted my book proposal for a third book — a Hands Free daily inspiration book which will be filled with the poems/short passages that I love to write! I feel so blessed to write and share them with people like you. Thank you so much for taking time to comment today. It was just what I needed.
Oh, this post moves me (well all your words seem to these days!) because I see myself in you and your eleven year old, and I imagine the near future of my seven year old girl, how we all have pensive moments, holding back our smiles, feeling unworthy of others’ beautiful and generous beaming gifts.
How absolutely lovely, the care package, the soap and notes. Your poor mom mourning her lost smile, but the love you send will hopefully raise her spirits. It raised mine!
Thank you, Dana. I cherish your words today. I am so glad you are here.
I love every post I read of yours and can relate to them all. I struggle everyday with the relationship with my 14 year old daughter…. I feel I need wisdom, encouragement, strength, love and more everyday. Your words help, thank you.
I am so glad to know my words help in this way, Shannon. Thank you so much for taking the time to tell me. I am grateful.
Sweet and wonderful post. I loved reading this illustration of the love, and the need for it, that flows both directions through the generations.
Oh, I had the worst morning ever with my ten year old today. It was one of those mornings I’d rewrite a million different, better ways if I could. All I keep thinking is that I’m writing her life soundtrack and my words need to be calmer, smoother, gentler to her soul when all I feel is frustration, impatience, and irritation with her adolescent volatility. Your words are the soundtrack I needed to hear. It is truly a blessing and a miraculous gift that we have second, third, … eightieth chances for a do-over and unconditional forgiveness and grace. Today, I’ll be her way home and I’ll hug away the hurtful words and scowls. And I’ll embrace her precious smile, because I need it so much. And tomorrow, I’ll remind myself of your words when I feel so overwhelmed. Thank you for being a light.
Beautifully stated, Jenny. Thank you for sharing words we can all relate to and hold on to.
You perfectly captured the feelings of a mom wrestling with her child’s fleeting smile. I’ve been caught off guard these past few weeks, as I guess I never expected my 10 year old’s smile to start coming and going so soon. I’ve tried whatever I could think of to respond and nothing has quite worked right, leaving me disheartened. BUT…I saw this post, at exactly the right time. Thank you for reminding me that fleeting smiles are normal for her age, and that the best thing I can do is just to love her where she is. There is nothing I need to fix. I just need to be there, love her, and have hope!
Thank you, Erin. I find great comfort in what you have shared here today. “Love her where she is.” In deed.
My daughter is moving through the beginning and very difficult time of early adolescence and my mom has been struggling for awhile with a very slow immune disease–it is so hard not being able to walk in the one you love’s shoes for them–to take away their pain–and instead watching, helping, cheering, and loving. The human experience in all its beauty is very hard–but we do our best don’t we:) Thank you for sharing
I had Bells Palsy, too. I was 11 years old and in my very first year of middle school. Kids were cruel and all I wanted to do was hide. I’m 46 now, I don’t hide, and my face is still a little lopsided. It’s most obvious to me. Sometimes I look at pictures of me and I cringe, wondering what it would’ve been like to go through adolescence with a normal face. Would I have been more confident or more vain? I can only tell you with absolute certainty that that experience gave me a strength and a sense of compassion that I probably wouldn’t have had otherwise. Life throws us curves that cause us to temporarily lose our smiles. It’s always, always, always temporary. Throw a little pity party, but don’t stay at the party for too long. Learn from it, grow and keep on keeping on. Thanks for sharing your smiles with us.
Thank you, Florence. You have a beautiful heart — it radiates in your words, determination, and faith. You have blessed us all with your presence today.
I loved this – so beautiful! It’s a reminder that sometimes when we smile at someone and they don’t return the smile – then maybe, for whatever reason, they “can’t” smile back right then because physically or emotionally they just can’t make it happen. But that may be when they need our smile and our love and support the most.
I also loved your soaps, especially the coffee one and would love to make them. Do you share the recipe?
Yes, thank you for seeing that message within this story. It is such an important one. Natalie made the soaps with her little sister. She is quite the crafty one in our house! I will ask her to type up the recipe tonight and I will post it. She will be thrilled that you asked!
Thank you for posting the recipe. My daughter loves to create things in the bathroom all the time. She is 8 years old. Thank you also for all your wonderful words. They are a constant reminder for me to stop and listen to my daughter. You have a beautiful way of putting feelings into words. I am so glad someone shared your blog on Facebook many months ago.
I would just like to say thank you. Thank you because I had lost my smile two years ago. Up until I had read your blog, I felt cheated in life, I lost my fiancé on our first anniversary after a sudden illness. I found it hard to smile and when I did it always felt fake. I also related to your nan having her Bells Palsy, I had it when I was 12 years old. I think that is when I learnt to appreciate my smile, however there was something about losing a loved one that forces you to feel robbed of everything in life. But I take this time to tell you I have smiled, and cried, and smiled again reading this, and it was real. A total stranger’s words made me smile for real, and I felt a small bit of life show itself again. Thank you from the bottom of my heart xx
Wow! I really needed to read this post this morning. I hope it reaches all whose smiles are a bit shaky. Thank you Rachel!
I so appreciate this post today, on a morning when things aren’t the way any of my family would like – 2 kids under the weather and my exhaustion from being up at night, and the possibility that some rare time alone with my husband might have to be canceled. Everyone’s smiles have faded a bit. I was just noticing yesterday how fleeting most moments are — our family had an unexpected laugh at the breakfast table and I thought, it’s so important to really lounge in these moments, because they become other moments so quickly. I’ll try to remember that while we are waiting for this time to pass into another one, there is still warmth to be had and to be given. I’ll try hard to find it in myself and offer it up, even though what I really feel like doing is hiding under the covers somewhere. Thanks, Rachel.
I know people say it all the time, but this post really spoke to me. Thank you (again) for your encouraging words. You are a gift to us all.
That is a loooooong walk from school to your house! Wow! Anyway, I really liked this post. I know several people who have had Bell’s palsy and they all fully recover. I wish your mom the best. My dad just had double vision for 4 months, unexplained. It’s so hard to watch these things happen, isn’t it? When will you write a post about how you used to eat sticks of butter as a young child? That is one of the things I remember most about you. I am just kidding, you don’t have to write about that of course. I also remember how happy and smiley you always were. ALWAYS. <3
Oh dear Suzanne!!! I wish you could see the smile YOU put on my face. It is so good to hear from you, dear friend. How comforting to hear from someone who has known us when we were small. You were always so kind to your friend’s little sister! And yes, that was a long walk. I think some of those tears might have been because I wished I’d taken the bus! I hope you are well, friend. I cannot wait to tell Rebecca I heard from you! XO
This was so powerful for me as a mom with a middle schooler who is struggling with the transition as only I can see. Sometimes it is hard to remember that anger and defensiveness may just be hiding fear of rejection and overwhelming confusion as they strive for independence while still longing for nurturing. I know that I just want to know how I’m getting home a lot too and open arms and a smile is what opens the front door.
Your writing reminds me I am not alone in life. Thank you! Somedays, I do just want to hide. Others, not so much. I appreciate you!
I have been reading your blog for about a year or so now. I love your writing. Thank you for sharing it. The things you have shared make me a better parent and I have been lucky enough to see that the simple changes I have made are working. I see the difference in my children.
Thank you so much for this post. I have three daughters whom I love dearly! I needed to be reminded how important a little smile and a welcoming hug is during the hustle and bustle of our week!!
I really needed this today … thank you! I haven’t had much to smile about this winter, except my beautiful granddaughter. They say a Mother can only be as happy as her unhappiest child, and both of my sons have been going through a very rough patch — even though they are twenty-somethings. Instead of warming them with my smiles as much as before, I’ve been letting our circumstances steal my smiles. They’re miserable enough without feeling guilty for making ME miserable. Thanks for the attitude adjustment!
Thank you for another wonderful post! This really resonated with me as my daughter Claire is 8.5 and I am very mindful of what lies ahead for us both in the ‘tween’ years.
Having read your blog for well over a year now (and your wonderful book) continues to make me a better wife, mother, daughter and friend. I have definitely seen how the simple changes I have made do work. I can also see the difference in my daughter.
I know I am still quite far from where I want to be, but using your guide — taking small steps to be more hands free and more in the moment– has been a huge blessing to me, and for that I am truly grateful. Please continue to write and share your wisdom and gift with all of us.
And I am so excited to see you this weekend in Indy!
Thank you, Leslie! Your beautiful words mean so much to me. And to know I will get to meet you in Indy in a few days just totally makes my day. Thank you, dear one.
I love your posts and this one is no exception! It’s like you always know just what I need to hear! Thank you SO much for sharing and making me feel less alone and more hopeful!! 🙂
Thank you so much. Lovely words and thoughts. One of my MANY bumper stickers on my trucks says “We’re all in this together” and we are all striving to find our way home.
This adoptee resonates with your thoughts today.
Thank you, Samantha. I am so grateful to know a little of your story and that these words resonated with you.
I just started reading your blog over the weekend and I’m so grateful for your authenticity. Thank you for your honesty and awareness. I’ve been reading through tears as I see so much of myself in your words. My son is 3 and I’ve been “losing it” a lot lately and I sometimes feel like I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. I read your post about anger and it really helped me reevaluate my thinking and actions. My son is my reason for living. Your writing is so beautiful. Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough, please keep writing to let us know that we are not alone.
Eileen
Hi Eileen, I am so glad you found me through the yelling post and that you are here walking beside me on this journey now. I often talk about how each one of us has “soul building words.” I discovered this through my youngest daughter. Her soul building words are: “Take your time.” You have spoken mine today in your message. When you said, “Please keep writing,” my heart and soul lifted up and felt lighter and loved. I am so glad you are here, dear one. You have blessed me.
Rachel,
Thank you for taking the time to write back to me. What a wonderful community you have created. Have a wonderful day, Eileen 🙂
Thank you so much for continuing to share your heart and words with us. I so needed this message today, for no reason other than I am being too hard on myself (again) and finding it hard to smile. So many days I feel so wonderful, blessed and truly happy. Today I feel broken. Again. I deeply appreciate your words and thoughts today, especially this:
Whether we wear a smile or not,
Whether we have our ducks in a row or they are running loose,
Whether we know what the future holds or have no clue,
Whether we are standing on solid ground or sinking sand,
We all share one commonality:
We just want to know how we’re getting home.
And we can get there, my friends. We can get there.
By loving each other with acceptance, grace, and unconditional love,
We can bring each other home.
Thank you so much!!! You are so appreciated!!! xxooxxoo
Thank you for highlighting those words, Lisa. I love to know which lines resonate with people. Someone shared this post this morning and shared it with these words: “My ducks are running loose … in celebration.” It made me cry. What a beautiful perspective. I thought you might enjoy it too. Thank you for being here.
I love to smile at people and hope to be a light to them. Sometimes I get pain in my face from trigeminal neuralgia and it can hurt to smile, so I do my best to smile with the side of my face that doesn’t hurt. It’s lopsided and probably looks funny, but hopefully, warmth comes through.
I also have a 5th grader! She’s 10 1/2. I anticipate these days coming soon. Thankfully, we’ve had lots of great talks and she’s opened up to me more than ever. I’ve loved all of your posts and they have really helped me to stop and be more intentional with my girls. I also have a 4 year old and catch myself saying “Hurry Up” a lot. I’ve been working on that too 🙂
Thanks so much for sharing your heart and your life. It’s made a great impact on my family!
Beautiful post! Thank you for sharing your inspiring thoughts!
“There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light get in” –leonard Cohen
Thank you, I neede that today
Thank you Rachel, the most beautiful posts from you always seem to turn up in my inbox just when I need them.
What a gift you are.
xo
Rachel,
You are such an inspiration to me. Thank you for you thoughtful writing. I have been living differently the last year, and it feels good. My son will enter Junior High next year too. He asked if I would drive him to school next year (it’s about 20-30 min each way) instead of him taking the bus – I asked why and he said he likes to talk in the car. What a gift. I don’t know that I would have recognized that before. Just last night he called me in his bedroom after I had tucked him in – and he said he wanted to talk – a deep conversation about God lasted about 15 minutes, and I left a bit unsettled at his questions. This morning, he smiled at me and said – thank you for talking with me last night. No where else I’d rather be – thank you for helping me to realize that my worth is found in those simple moments – the ones that I will cherish forever. Blessings to you and your family.
Wow, Heather! This is so uplifting and hopeful! Thank you for sharing this so we can all recognize such gifts when they are offered to us. I am so grateful to know of your progress. Thank you for walking beside me.
Rachel, thank you for this today. I have struggled today to find my smile. I’ve found a number of tears. Nothing major. No one I love is hurt or in danger that I am aware of, it has just been a hard day. And these, your gifted words, helped me to remember that even the fake smile I shared when I was outside of my house, was someone else’s sunshine. That even though today was hard and I’m not even sure why, I can let go of it because I can see the smiles of others and as I’m getting ready to go pick up my sons, they, looking for their way home from middle school, will see my real smile. They will have my arms (if they want them – they are both middle schoolers after all) and life will be just as it should be. Just as it is today. And I can just be present.
Thank you.
Genny
Thank you for giving us a glimpse into your heart, your struggle, and your triumph today. It is a beautiful, comforting, and authentic sight through your lovingly expressed words. I am so glad you are here.
Oh Rachel! My heart goes out to you and your family. Thank you for this lovely reminder about what’s really important, what we all want to know. I will keep you and yours in prayer this week. xo
Your lovely post sent me to tears. As the mother of six ( one taken safely home to Jesus at 21), I was reminded of the advice I give to parents of adolescent girls……drug by their hormones, but the problem is, they drag everyone else with them…….
This will pass, or at least greatly improve and later, you are blessed with a wonderful adult child! God is good.
Rachel,
I’m so sorry your mom has been diagnosed with Bell’s palsy. What a shock for her!
I can see why you wanted to climb on the delivery truck – she sounded so sad. Even though she can expect to recover fully, sudden changes like that are really challenging. You and your daughters’ immediate loving response (including her own mother’s words in a home-made care package) was touching to read, so I can only imagine how much it meant to her.
Please send her my heartfelt wishes for a swift and complete recovery. If she is anything like you, she will come through this challenge with an even deeper appreciation of herself, her life and the loved ones she has nurtured.
I think I needed to read this today for this: When you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it as a tragedy, but you choose to call it an epic, that’s when you start to learn what a celebration is. When what you see in front of you is so far outside what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that’s celebration. -Shauna Niequist, Savor. *tears!!!* We are soooooooo there!!! Love your blog, it inspired me to start mine just a few dsys ago as we have an *epic* story to tell in hopes of God using it in big ways.
You were so precise on that post. Thank you!
I feel warmed and hugged when I read your texts.
I’ve been through my elevens recently, I’m 17 now, and I remember how hard was my inconstant humor. in a period of time I didn’t knew how I’d get home. I didn’t new about hormones or adolescence and I missed my own warm smile. At that time I felt as if I could never be happy and nobody would never understand my needs. Fortunately you wrote they here.
I just needed some comfort, some cozy smile and a few understanding hugs.
I wish you the best.
And, as we say here in Brazil, i wish you kisses and smiles from ”the bottom of my heart”
them*
I am not sure how I came upon your blog, but each one has been especially inspiring. I totally agree on the need to know how you’re getting home. I remember trying to focus each day on providing a “sanctuary” for my children and husband where they were totally accepted and loved when the outside world is sometimes less than friendly. You have lifted my spirits today.
My dad lost his smile due to Parkinson’s, so I know what it’s like to see that happen for a parent. But, I can tell you this…circumstances may take your smile away, but no one can ever take your light! Prayers for your mama as she adjusts to her new situation.
I was diagnosed with Bell’s Palsy 3 years ago- my smile has still not returned…literally and sometimes figuratively- but I’m trying, everyday 🙂
I have four kids, and I find your posts so inspiring and helpful. Thank you so much for sharing. I find myself able to make the choice not to yell just a little bit more, all the time. So hard, but feels so great. 🙂
I like the way you tie this all together.
The power of a smile, the changes, etc.
My son is headed to middle school next year as well. It’s nice to thing that he continues to appreciate a smile and a greeting. It’s also important to remember this through his adjustments.
This post is absolutely spot on for me right now. My mom who has been my best friend, smartest person I know and have depended upon for so much has suddenly plunged into a devastating health condition and is not herself. I feel absolutely devastated. She has been my rock through many deployments and emotionally has been of great support to me and my four children while my husband is gone. I, too, believe in always offering a ready smile to people as you never know who needs one badly. My smile is gone and my tears and cries of anguish are too readily bursting forth. I have tried steadfastly to protect my children as I know how much they need me to be strong. I have read a lot today about going forth supporting patients to meet patients where they are and enjoy life as they are and not mourn what they cannot do now or no longer be. The positive take on changes in life gave me hope to enjoy life without this anguish for loss that I am feeling now. I too, have a 5th grade girl. I am totally with you on that front as well and am loving all of your contributions!!
You made a perfect statement that fit my Mom exactly! As she aged, she too, was not the Mom who looked like me….talked like me and shared the same brain! We would call each other up and say exactly what the other one was thinking!
She really was my best friend in my adult life ( husband is , too, but in a different way). She was still loving and concerned for her family even as her mind became less focused on things on this earth. We cared for her at her home until she peacefully left for her heavenly home at 96. I realize that her slowly changing from the person she had been prepared me for living without her some day!
I have one adult daughter who shares the same brain with me that Mom did! We call and say and think the same things over and over again….what a joy.
I hope that you can cherish any of your Mom that still resembles the “Mom of Old” and love her in her current situation. God bless you and your husband as he serves our country. I will pray for your family.
I, too, have experienced Bell’s Palsy. It’s scary, but just like your mother; my sorrow came from losing my smile. I never realized how much my smile was worth to me (and to others) until I no longer had it. Ironically, it seems all I ever saw on TV during that time were the commercials for Operation Smiles and other organizations of the same type. I didn’t have the money to send at the time, and to be honest I still haven’t sent any to those organizations as of yet. I do know deep in my heart I will be put in a position sometime in my life where I will be able to contribute. Believe me when I say, I will! It was almost like “a sign!” The feeling that I was made to experience that, to treasure the simplicity of a smile, to be reminded of how important it is to share what I have no matter how small. A smile!!!
Sincere appreciation for these words. THANKS!
Rachel,
As always your message comes to me at the exact moment I need it to. My smiles have been very hard to come by lately. When my girls are with me I do my best to smile for them because the more we do smile the better we all are. I just want to thank you for your message. After a very difficult two weeks filled with trauma I need the reminder to smile. Thank you again for reaching out and touching hearts.
Namaste, Kristen Goodrich
My smile is shaky these days, too. I don’t have a middle schooler yet, but I have a sweet two year old son with a genetic bone disease, and some tummy issues we’re trying to figure out. Also, my husband died suddenly 6 months ago. I do laugh and smile, but it’s hard to be the one on the receiving end. Even now, just sharing this sad part of my life sounds like I’m drawing attention to myself, asking for pity and sympathy. I’ve always been the happy, encouraging one.
Dear Colleen, you have had so much sadness and challenge to bear and yet here to you are, taking time to share your story so someone else feels less alone. Here you are, showing up, just as you have every day for the past 6 months because your son needs you. When I read your words, I see a very strong and remarkable woman. You can bet someone is reading this from their own painful period of life and finding inspiration in your message. I am thankful for you and the many ways you have showed up today to be there for others. I am so glad you are here walking beside me on this journey. I hope your smile becomes less shaky in the next 6 months to come. Have you read my friend Julia’s blog? She too lost her husband unexpectedly. She is the most beautiful writer and expresser of emotions. Dear Audrey is her first blog http://dearmissaudrey.blogspot.com
Studies in Hope is her newest blog — here’s latest post, This is Beautiful. I think you will find it moving, hopeful, and helpful http://studiesinhope.com/2015/03/06/this-is-beautiful/
Thank you for your beautiful writing, Rachel! I so needed to hear your words as my daughter, too is headed to middle school in the fall. The reminder of “home” was so poignant – most often where we all long to be…the promise of comfort, safety, and love. Your post helped me to again recognize the vulnerability in my daughter’s life right now. It helped me to remember the importance of consistency and grace for her, and for myself. As a single Mom, I struggle to maintain that balance that is so reassuring to her. I am grateful for your words today! : )
As a side note, I am sending prayers of healing for your Mom. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to look into the tremendous benefits of chiropractic care to resolve Bell’s Palsy. My own chiropractor has had great success.
Blessings,
Lisa
Thank you, Lisa. I appreciate hearing your store & your heart today. I am so grateful for the prayers for my mom. I will send her your message. Every little bit of information and support helps tremendously. Grateful for you.
Hi Rachel,
Your words have hit home. My smile has also faded sometimes and I feel like looking away. Yesterday I talked to God and made a decision to look at life differently. This is an affirmation of my decision. I will not look away, I will smile warmly and more so let my family know that there will always be a warm welcome no matter where they have been, what they have done or how they are. Your words surely build me. Thank you Rachel, God bless you always!
Thank you, friend. I cherish the comments you leave here. And through your words, I can envision the beautiful smile you have. I pray you are able to stay true to your commitment. The world needs your smile, dear one. Bless you too.
I have no related story to share. I waited until this morning to read your post as I did not have the emotional-time yesterday. As always, you did not disappoint. You continue to touch my heart with your words. Simply, thank you.
Thank you, Cat. I sure am glad you are here. Your words fuel my writer’s heart today.
My daughter had bells palsy after dental work anesthesia for cavity fillings twice. Our homeopathic Dr. prescribed Hypericum Perf. In the 200c potency. Its for nerve damage. She took it once and it cured within hours. Fast application of the remedy will ensure no permanent damage. To find a local homeopath, you can search practitioners on sites such as national center for homeopathy. Blessings and best wishes to you and your Family.
Thank you! I needed this.
Rachel, thank you so much for your beautiful, hopeful words. I’m a mum of three wonderful little people and another on the way and it’s been a tough several months as we try and settle in to a new place while knowing our future could well take us away again. This post has been particularly encouraging for this time so thank you very much for sharing your heart through your beautiful words. Remaliah (NZ)
I have to add that this doesn’t change when kids grow up. I have two sons in their twenties and though they’d never admit it, I can tell there are plenty of times when they come home for nothing more than a good meal and warm hug.
That warms my heart, Laurie. And I would fully agree — there is still nothing like visiting my parents’ home! They give me the best hugs and make the best comfort food!
I just discovered your blog recently, and I absolutely love it. I teared up the whole way through this post. I read this during my lunch break and I was still thinking about it this evening. Thank you for sharing your heart!
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/sad_poem_about_spring_650640
Read my poem. Jim Horn
Your blog is a comfort to my soul….Thank You!
Thank you, Rachel, for so often sharing your heart with us. That can be a scary thing to do, and I treasure your willingness to share your triumphs and struggles, small and large, to encourage each of us on our journey. I thank you for the fact that when my husband (who is in school and doesn’t have much free time) starts chatting with me while I’m in the middle of something it now occurs to me that I can stop what I’m doing and give him my full attention for the few moments I have available. I thank you for the fact that when I have an opportunity to spend time with a friend or chat on the phone with a family member I now much more often remember that the random stuff that “needs to be done” can wait until later while opportunities to build relationship and to encourage often cannot. I thank you (and my pastor and God) for the fact that I recently realized that if–outside of my work–I switched from keeping a list of things to do to keeping a short note-card of important commitments then I could feel more free to live my life rather than feeling like I’m managing my life. I have a lot to learn and many areas where I could do better, but I take joy in the areas where I’m doing better than I was. I’m grateful, Rachel, for your gifts of insight and of words and for your willingness to share them.
It’s OK to have rough days, and I think it’s important to share those rough days so that we all remember that we all have days like that. I’m glad, though, that you found a ray of encouragement when you were down. I pray that you will continue to find encouragement and thank God for the encouragement you have given so many others. <3
Forgot to proofread before posting. 🙂 I was trying to say that now it’s much easier for me to stop what I’m doing and give my husband my attention for the few moments that *he has* available.
Rachel, I am working hard to be open to your words. The guilt and heaviness of repeated failure press on my shoulders, and I have to step away for a while… and it’s hard to remember that it’s a dance, and in a dance, you have to be truly aware of the people you’re dancing with. Thank you for this, and for the inspiration of kindness you bring into the world.
Such beautiful wisdom from that administrator and I love how you’ve tied these all together. Sometimes we make things out to be so much bigger than they are. Sometimes the answers are simpler than we realize.
I love reading your posts. It gives me hope – hope that I can be a better mom and better wife.
I’m sorry about your mom and hope she gets better soon!