The Right Moment
We're in Venice, Florida today. We've been here for one week and aren't even halfway through our stay. My husband was sick for the first five days, our four year old came down with the same cold a few days after, and now I have it. It's not ideal to be sick on vacation, but at least it's warm here and we've been able to take turns resting when we need to.
I went outside for a bit yesterday and struck up a conversation with the lady who lives in the condo next door. Her name is Betty and she's here with her husband. They come every year, just like my in-laws do. She's a mom and a grandmother from Tennessee. We had an instant rapport, probably because we both love to talk about our kids. She told me all about her grandchildren and I told her all about my boys. We laughed and and told stories about all the things involved with and raising a family.
When it was time for her to go in, she looked at me very closely and said, "Take a breath. Just enjoy this. Enjoy your children and your family." She said it so kindly that I couldn't react in any way but gratefully. I said, "I do. I really do."
Then she looked at me again and said, "One day, those boys will grow up and move out. They'll get jobs, get married and start their own families. You'll love being a grandmother, but it won't be the same. You'll love having time with your husband and time for yourself to pursue all the things you put on the back burner. But it won't be the same. You'll miss them. You'll miss the constant questions. You'll miss the noise. You'll miss being so tired at the end of the day that you sleep for eight hours without getting up. You'll miss it. You'll miss them."
I was holding back tears, but she was so sweet. She patted my arm and said, "Enjoy them. Enjoy yourself."
I wonder if she knows what a gift she gave me. I wonder if she knows that I was really listening to her. I think she did. If I see her again, I might tell her. I could tell her that these are the things moms need to hear. She chose her moment well. She didn't try to tell me this while I was wrangling toddlers in the grocery store or when I had to take a screaming baby out of a nice restaurant, like so many people have. (Talk about bad timing! The only thing I want to say in those moments is, 'Either you had perfect children or your memory is failing! This is HARD! I don't want to remember today! I just want to put them to bed, get a glass of wine and try to put it behind me!)
No, this lady was smart. She chose a quiet, private moment. She chose a happy, peaceful time when I was pleased with my boys and proud of the parenting job I'm doing. Did she know that or was it just luck? I like to think she knew. I like to think that it's because she remembers having little kids very, very well. She certainly seemed to. She's reliving it with her grandchildren, so her perspective is different, but not dismissive.
The content of a message is not the only important part. Timing is crucial. Empathy and understanding can help us find those moments. Truly listening and recognizing where someone else is can help us find the right moment. These are the beautiful times, the moments of connection, the times we feel heard, understood, validated and HOPEFUL. I'm so grateful to Betty, our temporary next door neighbor, for giving me one of those moments.
I went outside for a bit yesterday and struck up a conversation with the lady who lives in the condo next door. Her name is Betty and she's here with her husband. They come every year, just like my in-laws do. She's a mom and a grandmother from Tennessee. We had an instant rapport, probably because we both love to talk about our kids. She told me all about her grandchildren and I told her all about my boys. We laughed and and told stories about all the things involved with and raising a family.
When it was time for her to go in, she looked at me very closely and said, "Take a breath. Just enjoy this. Enjoy your children and your family." She said it so kindly that I couldn't react in any way but gratefully. I said, "I do. I really do."
Then she looked at me again and said, "One day, those boys will grow up and move out. They'll get jobs, get married and start their own families. You'll love being a grandmother, but it won't be the same. You'll love having time with your husband and time for yourself to pursue all the things you put on the back burner. But it won't be the same. You'll miss them. You'll miss the constant questions. You'll miss the noise. You'll miss being so tired at the end of the day that you sleep for eight hours without getting up. You'll miss it. You'll miss them."
I was holding back tears, but she was so sweet. She patted my arm and said, "Enjoy them. Enjoy yourself."
I wonder if she knows what a gift she gave me. I wonder if she knows that I was really listening to her. I think she did. If I see her again, I might tell her. I could tell her that these are the things moms need to hear. She chose her moment well. She didn't try to tell me this while I was wrangling toddlers in the grocery store or when I had to take a screaming baby out of a nice restaurant, like so many people have. (Talk about bad timing! The only thing I want to say in those moments is, 'Either you had perfect children or your memory is failing! This is HARD! I don't want to remember today! I just want to put them to bed, get a glass of wine and try to put it behind me!)
No, this lady was smart. She chose a quiet, private moment. She chose a happy, peaceful time when I was pleased with my boys and proud of the parenting job I'm doing. Did she know that or was it just luck? I like to think she knew. I like to think that it's because she remembers having little kids very, very well. She certainly seemed to. She's reliving it with her grandchildren, so her perspective is different, but not dismissive.
The content of a message is not the only important part. Timing is crucial. Empathy and understanding can help us find those moments. Truly listening and recognizing where someone else is can help us find the right moment. These are the beautiful times, the moments of connection, the times we feel heard, understood, validated and HOPEFUL. I'm so grateful to Betty, our temporary next door neighbor, for giving me one of those moments.
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