So I figured out life tonight. Well, I figured out a small part of life, and that feels pretty good to me and pretty bad at the same time. It goes something like this:
If people weren’t so dishonest, I wouldn’t be so confused. It seems ridiculous to say it out loud, but go ahead and do it anyway. Now, let me explain. We will even set aside my day job for this, and concentrate on my real life as a person who is trying to be a mom and a wife and a grandmother and an entrepreneur and a writer and an artist and a home repair person and an interior designer and a builder and a jewelry maker and a plumber and an electrician and a housekeeper and a cheerleader and a motivational speaker and a babysitter and a dog-owner and a ministry leader. Well, I realize that the last should have been first….
But look. All of those things require bouts with a computer. Literally ALL of them. Can you imagine how many user names and passwords that entails? I’m sure you can, because surely you wear a few different hats in your own hectic life. Why do I have to remember so many things? Because people are dishonest. They will rob you blind. They will sneak in to steal, kill, and destroy–where have I read that before? Ohhhh…..that book that I don’t read enough because I’m just too busy doing all of that other stuff! Okay, maybe not ALL people, but enough that you have to have multiple passwords and multiple user names with uppercase and lowercase letters and special characters (but only certain ones and you have to figure that out as you go along) and numbers, and they have to be this long but not that long, and I swear that by the time I finally figure most of them out, my stupid password is something I would NEVER say out loud! I try not to curse.
When I slow down long enough to wish, I think back to a simpler time, when I would stand with my Mama in the kitchen and she would stop what she was doing and just hug me for a really, really, long time. There has been nothing in my life that has ever or could ever replace those moments for me! The absolute purity of a mother’s love for her daughter, and the reciprocated love of a daughter for her mother–in this age of cell phones and computers and user names and passwords and tinnitus and constant pressure and noise, that kind of beautiful moment seems somehow lost. But it doesn’t have to be. My Mama is literally 12 feet away from me, lying on my couch, probably wondering if I’m ever going to bed tonight.
When I started writing this, I thought I was talking about how complicated life has gotten, and what dishonest people have taken from me and caused me to have to do. Now that I’ve gotten to the end, I realize all of that has given me a great appreciation for a few minutes of nothing but me and Mama and the best hugs ever. In those days, I didn’t have to be anything but her little girl. I guess to her, I still don’t.