So, here's my interpretation:
I try not to disrespect my Mom and Dad.
I have expensive dental work.
I'd like to keep it in place.
But seriously!!!
There are a few things in this world that I am proud of myself for. One, is the fact that I've never smoked. Anything. Not a thing. Ever.
Secondly, is the fact that I lived with my parents, and for the most part, kept it respectful, until I was 27 years old--when I got married.
My mom and dad are loud, funny, bold people with strong opinions. I am also a loud person with a strong opinion. This leads to heated discussions and a lot of frustration--I barely survived college (it's hard to watch your kid be an idiot!). But I love them, and I knew the rules: You live under my roof, you obey my rules, period.
Dad is Italian; Mom is adopted, and raised in Indiana. [Note: If you don't know this already, when I say "Dad," I'm referring to the guy that is technically my step-father. But "Dad-"hood is earned...and my biological father hasn't put in the effort, quite frankly, so my step-father is my Dad. Bio-Dad is referred to as such, or by his name (Fred) in this blog. That's not out of anger; my stepDad deserves the respect. My father keeps his distance by his choice.]
Dad chose us--he met and married my Momma when I was 8 years old, and my sister was 12. He had no idea what he was in for, but he has stayed, and for that, I am grateful. It hasn't been an easy road for him; the years have been rough, and he's had his struggles. But even though I question a lot, I do know that my Dad loves me. That goes deeper than blood.
Dad has dried my tears after bad concert performances; laughed at my jokes that weren't funny; fixed plumbing that I destroyed; and walked me down the aisle. I have beautiful memories with my dad, and I am eternally grateful that God put him in our lives.
As for Mom...I can't say enough. I can't say anything--there are no words. That's the relationship that almost never was, but let me tell you: There is no one on this earth that loves me like that woman. The further I go on my own journey of motherhood, the greater and greater my respect and admiration for her grows. I had no idea what she went through, until now, and I'm just starting to catch a glimpse. She's made of iron, that's for sure, and like iron sharpening iron, we have struggled with each other...and we have helped each other grow in many ways. She has been the single biggest factor in helping me become the person I am today, and in shaping the person I hope to be.
I hope to someday have her work ethic--her tireless, obsessed-with-excellence work ethic. She works with integrity-she IS a Proverbs 31 tough-as-nails kind of woman, even though it doesn't get recognized as often as it should. She is faithful, ferocious, sassy, crazy, and awesome. She's a force to be reckoned with, and that's an understatement.
There is no one on this planet like my mom, and if you don't know her, it's your loss. She's incredible. I've been around her more this year, than I have in a long time, because she watches my son for a little bit during the week. It's a big sacrifice for her, but I love seeing him with her...it makes me think of my own grandma, and how much I loved her.
I want JD to grow up loving my mom like I loved my Grandma M....who was also a force to be reckoned with!
I'm human. I get mad at my parents...I get mad at my dad's choices; I loathe his motorcycle. I get frustrated at the occasional miscommunication with my mom, and how things we say can get so misunderstood and misinterpreted. Anger is one thing, but disrespect is another, and that is one thing I do not do.
My parents are not on some kind of super-pedastal. No one knows your good side/bad side like your kids, and that's something I'm preparing for (can you ever prepare yourself for that?!?). I'm not delusional, and I'm not candy-coating them to make them sound like something they're not.
They really are incredible.
I didn't grow up like The Bradys. My parents loved Jesus, swore a lot, spanked our butts a little too often, made us do chores and homework, drug us to church, and bought our clothes on sale. They'd get mad and say terrible things, but they'd also teach us what the Bible said. They made sure we had a good education--I will never forget the times my dad tried to teach me algebra (sorry, Dad--lost cause!). Mom taught us to love music and dancing; my first dance was with my dad.
Our house was full of life and vibrance, strength through trials, perseverance and sacrifice. We have lived through a lot as a family, and we are bonded even more because of it.
I will never call my mother my "old lady," or my dad my "old man." I have said some dumb things to them, but never that. I feel like I have been a pretty respectful kid, in all honesty, and all things considered, I'm kinda proud of that fact.
Exodus 20:12 says "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." I believe that. In 2006, I went into congestive heart failure. My left ventricle pretty much stopped working, and my oxygen levels plummeted. There is no earthly reason I should have survived. I should have died, or at the very least, had a stroke.
I lived.
I was thinking about this verse one day, when it hit me: Maybe that's why I lived? Maybe my respect for my parents, the fact that I was obedient, is why God decided to let me live?
I don't know if that's true, or if that's arrogant to think....I have no idea. But it certainly put it into perspective, and it's something I'm going to teach my son!
Disrespecting the people who have given so much to bring you into this world, shows just how much of an unappreciative, unworthy jerk someone is. Our parents (even bio-dad) are deserving of respect for their lives, for their experience, and for the love they give us...God gave us to them (and most of our parents have dedicated us back to Him), so if He respects them that much, shouldn't we?
I love my mom and dad.
They're pretty freakin' cool. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment