Chicky is not very demonstrative with her love.
I have often doubted that she cares for me because we have spent so many years at each others’ throats.
Such is the life between a mother and daughter, it would seem.
However, things have begun to change, I believe, and I’ve begun to recognize the ways in which she shows me that she does, in fact, love me.
- All summer, Chicky has been quite mindful of my eating habits and has strongly encouraged me to eat regular meals. I tend to skip out on eating. Aside from certain dishes, I really don’t enjoy this task. I’m usually too busy to eat, and I find it easy to ignore my stomach. Even though she comes across as angry, I know that Chicky is simply frustrated because she wants me to take better care of myself. She often took extra time to plan meals that included items I could eat, and her grocery shopping included the ingredients necessary for these meals.
- Chicky bragged to Special K, her roomie, about the vegan desserts I had made all summer. I’ve rarely heard her brag about the stuff I’ve done. This warmed my heart more than she or anyone can ever know. To feel like my child approves of me when for so long I’ve felt as though I have not measured up has gone a long way toward healing that hurt in my heart.
- The evening we moved Chicky into her new digs (Wednesday night), I set off, very late (she would not let us eat dinner before she had unpacked) to pick up dinner at Chipotle’s. They closed at ten. It was 9:30 when I left. I got lost while chatting on the phone with my friend, Barb, and couldn’t find my way out of a neighborhood. I hung up, got the GPS going, and got there with ten minutes to spare. After that, I decided to treat myself to Starbucks…especially after the crazy day I’d had. Chicky called as I was nearing her place on my return drive.
Our conversation went like this…”Mama, are you okay?” she asked.”I’m fine,” I said.“Did you get there before they closed?” she continued.
“Oh, so you’re only worried about your food. I see how it is,” I replied.
“No, actually, I wanted to make sure you were still alive. You’ve been gone a long time,” she quipped.
I think she really was worried. We’d had a scare with the moving truck earlier that day (I will blog about this tomorrow, I promise).
- Later that night, she asked me where I was going to sleep. I told her, “Right on that Woody (Toy Story) pillow you have on your bed.” I expected her to tell me I could take my pillow to the couch, but she surprised me by telling me that I could sleep in her bed, albeit using the Spider Man pillow, only if I didn’t cross my side and absolutely did not touch her. I chuckled as I told her that I would wait until she was sound asleep to snuggle. Unfortunately, I was so beat that I was probably snoozing long before she succumbed to dreams of three-a-days (for you non-sporties, that’s three practices a day).
I have learned to treasure such moments instead of overlooking them.
Chicky doesn’t say the three words I desperately long to hear and have not heard her speak in a number of years.
She does, however, show through her actions what she cannot say.
Actions speak louder than words.
That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?
While it is wonderful to hear the words, I take such times as those described above, tuck them away for safekeeping, and pull them out when I begin to doubt…or when we are in the middle of three u-turns in a row and she’s yelling at me to listen to her and turn on the stupid GPS.
My Chicky loves me.
And I love her.
Filed under: children | Tagged: childrearing, children, parenting |
She does 🙂 … its always when you get older that your mom truly becomes your best friend … I think that’s happening 🙂
What a good girl you have…
This is very much how it feels with MJ and I always feel bad. Thank you for sharing this story and helping me see things differently. Boys are so much easier than girls!!