Thursday, August 30, 2012

Prayers Answered Revisited

       Amber was an answer to my prayers. I wanted someone I could love that would love me too. It was a child's wish and God granted it.  My children really did get me through the hardest parts of my life.  Amber had beautiful blonde ringlets and beautiful hazel eyes. She had an sweet smile that was infectious. I had spoiled her. I did. I gave her everything I could. The doctors had told me that she would be the only one I would have. So I poured everything into her. She was my little companion and she went everywhere with me. She was perfectly agreeable, as long as she was getting her own way. Which, she usually was. She was stubborn and willful and she ruled my world. When I married my second husband, he knew he was to treat her equally. And as more children came along we blended that family almost seamlessly.  She had asked for a little brother right before I became pregnant with Bubba and so she thought he belonged to her and she spent her day schooling him in life. She was a perfect big sister. She would help get diapers and bottles. She took her responsibilities as the oldest vary seriously. She was bossy, but with a big heart. She gave lectures and lessons. When she was about three we were driving along and a car pulled out in front of us, cutting off my car. Amber rolled down her window, stood up in her booster seat and yelled at the unsuspecting driver calling out "Idiot'! I realized that she was a little mimic. And I would have to be more careful with my words, and my own driving. She was a little adult.

   She loved to snuggle and we would take turns holding each other. We would sit up in bed and watch TV. When she was a teenager we would huddle on the couch and watch scary movies and The X Files.  She was a reader and we swapped books back and forth. We would walk around our little town everyday. Talking about everything and nothing. She had not had a real relationship with her father growing up and it affected her. it made me sad, that I had not been able to give her that. She was smart and funny and a natural leader. She did well in school and there were always boys interested in her. I would drive her to school everyday and we would blare the music and sing off key. I took her to her first concert and got her ready for her first dance.

  When she turned fourteen, she became argumentative. Disagreeable. It exasperated me. She would be moody and hormonal. And I would make her passion flower tea and run her a bubble bath. The storm that she brought down on the household would just as swiftly pass and she would be docile.
She was a girlie girl. She loved having her hair done and make up. We would do each others nails and lay in the sun on long summer afternoons. There were always extra children in the house. And before events they would all come over and I would do their hair and makeup. I lent out shoes and dresses and little purses. There were so many mothers who had to work and were missing out on so much. And I felt blessed, that at least for Amber I was able to be there.

   She is my most serious child. That is not to say she does not have a sense of humor, she is just more grounded then her siblings. She met the man she would marry while still in school. They were great together and they have grown up so much as a couple.  She gave birth to the sweetest little boy who now rules my world, just as his mother did before him. It is such a gift, my family. I love to have them over for dinner or to go out on the boat together. I enjoy the adults my children have grown to be. I worry for them as much as I did when they were little, but I am very sure that they are good masters of their own destinies. I enjoy watching them stretch out into the world. They make me so proud and all the struggles of those early years were well worth it. I always had my mother in the back of my mind, as I raised my children. I would do anything to not be her. To be better. To make sure my children knew they were loved. To put them first. I still ask sometimes, was I good enough? Were you loved enough? They are all so gracious and say yes. I do not know what I would do if they ever said no. I always had that fear. I do not think my parents ever thought we would ever grow up and hold them accountable. I really do not know what they were thinking for all those years of pain and neglect. I have tried to have the discussion with my mother many times. She would brush me off saying "oh, you did not have a hard life" or "Oh yeah, you had it so hard." She can not accept her responsibility for the mother she was and more importantly the one she was not. She would rewrite my childhood, of course making herself the lead. We were never had more than bit parts in her world. She is the ruler I measure myself by, and I try to be as far from her as I can be.

  I have the joy of watching my grandson often. He is amazing. The best baby ever! He is always happy and he loves to be tickled. He is just as active as his uncle. He is a climber and an eater and he gives me a run for my money. It is different helping to raise this little soul. My life is calmer, more peaceful. I have the wisdom of years. All those years of having faith of carrying hope around like a prized jewel had paid off. And that prayer that I prayed so long ago, to love and to be loved has been answered a dozen times over. Where there is faith, there is hope and with hope things will always get better.

No comments:

Post a Comment