{"id":3675,"date":"2012-04-04T17:20:50","date_gmt":"2012-04-04T17:20:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/?p=3675"},"modified":"2012-04-10T23:34:46","modified_gmt":"2012-04-10T23:34:46","slug":"hope-for-the-imperfect-parent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/2012\/04\/04\/hope-for-the-imperfect-parent\/","title":{"rendered":"Hope for the Imperfect Parent"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

This story is for those who feel imperfect, even broken at times, in their role as caregiver in a child\u2019s life. There is hope, my friend. There is hope.<\/p><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/em>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 \u201cHands Free\u201d 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.<\/p>\n

I will be honest; it was a lot to take in. And I wasn\u2019t sure what I was supposed to do with it. I couldn\u2019t 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 \u201cHands Free Mama,\u201d I would not be able to stop the words\u2014because that is just how things work on this journey.<\/p>\n

So I went on about living. \u00a0And about a month ago, my youngest child started a new line of questioning. Here is a sample:<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long will you be alive?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many years do you have left before you die?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen will you go to heaven?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWill you be buried with your wedding ring on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you old?\u201d<\/p>\n

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\u2019s questions as optimistically, yet as honestly, as I can.<\/p>\n

But on the morning my daughter proudly announced she had written a new entry in her \u201cTalk Time\u201d journal,<\/a> 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:<\/p>\n

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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." <\/p><\/div>\n

Hugging the journal to my chest, I balled myself up into the corner of her bedroom and cried. I can\u2019t pinpoint exactly why I felt so distraught \u2026 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.<\/p>\n

But just as suddenly as the thought of my inevitable death brought me to the floor, I was overcome with a sense of peace\u2014peace that wrapped its loving arms around me and stopped my tears.<\/p>\n

What popped into my mind was this profound realization:<\/p>\n

Almost two years ago I began my \u201cHands Free\u201d 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 \u201cHands Free.\u201d<\/p>\n

And now I knew what it was.<\/p>\n

Living \u201cHands Free\u201d is a gift you give your child NOW that becomes something eternal, forever lasting within your child LATER.<\/p>\n

And I had the evidence to prove it.<\/p>\n

I raced out of my child\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n

And now is the time.<\/p>\n

This is Brian\u2019s story \u2026<\/p>\n

My mom had many names of affection: Mom, Mommy, DeAnn, Dee Dee, Adina, Grandma. She was many things to many people\u2014but to me, she was everything.<\/em><\/p>\n

My mom worked outside the home while also being \u201chands on\u201d with our family. <\/em>She lived her life for us,\u00a0somehow making every moment special for each of her seven kids.\u00a0 Yes, seven kids! Can you imagine having seven kids and managing to make each one feel like one of the magnificent seven?<\/em><\/p>\n

Well, that\u2019s exactly what my mom did. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

My family endured the <\/em>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\u2014most importantly, by having our mother. \u00a0She loved us openly with a smile, soft hands, and a hug that just made everything feel better.<\/em><\/p>\n

My mom was so much about others\u2014about her kids, friends, family and loved ones, even those she barely knew. <\/em>She worked in a nursing home when I was young, and she would take me with her on days I was out of school.\u00a0I was in awe of her reaction to the residents and in turn, how they reacted to her.\u00a0 Again, it was her warm, soft hands, her smile, her patience, and her ability to listen\u2014the residents loved her and trusted her for the same reasons that my brothers and sisters did. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

My mom loved to read, but it was romance novels and Stephen King, not self-help books on how to be a better parent. <\/em>She wasn\u2019t 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. <\/em>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.<\/em><\/p>\n

The way my mom listened made me feel understood. I can hear her saying, \u201cBrian, honey, let those little things go; I love you,\u201d or \u201cIt\u2019s just a phase, Brian; I love you.\u201d 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.<\/em><\/p>\n

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.<\/em><\/p>\n

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 \u201cI love you.\u201d Virtually every sentence my mom ever spoke to me ended with the words \u201cI love you.\u201d \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

My mom lived her life and loved her children to her fullest potential. Perhaps that is why when she was dealt with cancer\u2019s merciless hand, she faced her impending departure with courage and grace.<\/em><\/p>\n

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, \u201cDeAnn, aren\u2019t you mad? You don\u2019t seem like this bothers you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

My mom\u2019s response reflected the way she had lived her whole life.<\/em><\/p>\n

She replied, \u201cI\u2019m not mad; I could sit here and ask, \u2018God, why me?\u2019 But instead I ask, \u2018Why not me?\u2019 Why wouldn\u2019t God want me?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>My mom lived her 61 years of life for her family. I\u2019m sure she made mistakes along the way, but I don\u2019t remember them. I only remember that she smiled and hugged with soft hands. She laughed a lot and finished her sentences with the words \u201cI love you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

———————————————-<\/p>\n

That is the story of Brian\u2019s mom, but the story does not end here. This is where the hope begins, friends. Because now that you know Brian\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n

Let me tell you about Brian \u2026<\/p>\n

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\u2014simply 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.<\/p>\n

When Brian\u2019s 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\u2019t always happen, but Brian is trying; he is trying.<\/p>\n

Brian\u2019s 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\u2019t always able to cherish the moments that matter, but he is trying; he is trying.<\/p>\n

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:<\/p>\n

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, \u201cI love you\u201d\u2014sometimes even whispering the words as he kisses their foreheads as they've gone to sleep.<\/p>\n

Because at the end of the day, Brian knows it's all about the love … love that is accessible, warm, open, continuous\u2014like the love his mom gave him that he is now passing on to his kids.<\/p>\n

As I have worked on today's post over the past several weeks, I\u2019ve been spending my precious time a little more purposefully than I have in the past \u2026<\/p>\n

Lingering with my kids a little longer at bedtime \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Offering them more hugs \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Holding on a bit longer \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Making eye contact<\/a> the whole time she speaks to me \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Providing more signs of love<\/a> in her lunch box and on her bed \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

More smiles, less frowns \u2026<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Ending more sentences with the words, \u201cI love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

And what has created a newfound hope throughout the trying days on which I feel I\u2019ve failed miserably as a parent is this:<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not about trying to be a perfect parent to my kids; it is about trying to provide a love that is perfect for them.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Because it is the love that sticks with them.<\/p>\n

It is the love that they pass on.<\/p>\n

It is the love that will endure, even after I am gone.<\/p>\n

My friends, let go of distraction and perfection so you can LOVE\u2014love without conditions and without restraint.<\/p>\n

Live \u201cHands Free.\u201d Love \u201cHands Free.\u201d It\u2019s the eternal, forever gift that YOU, and only you, can give your children.<\/p>\n

*******************************************************<\/p>\n

Your \u201cHands Free\u201d challenge today is this:<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Focus on the color of their eyes.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Memorize the sound of their voice.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Hug until your arms grow tired.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Say \u201cI love you\u201d until your voice grows weak.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

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.<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Love them. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Just love them.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

That is all.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/strong>End of story.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n


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\u00a0A 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 \u201cHands Free\u201d 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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":3699,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[79,30],"tags":[725,573,571,723,724,726],"gutentor_comment":51,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/04\/IMG_70901-e1333553509285.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1fUJF-Xh","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3675"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3675"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3675\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3699"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3675"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3675"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.handsfreemama.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3675"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}