As I woke up this morning and pulled on my yoga pants, that were left like firefighter turnout gear on the floor next to my bed, I was instantly thinking about you.  

Not your breakfast or what I would scrounge up for your lunch (I’ll probably feel guilty about that half ass effort later), but the constant struggle I feel to teach you independence while also protecting you from EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE at all times.

This instant thought is the result of wisely spending my time on social media last night before bed. I know better. I tell others not to! But there I was… reading a post about how Sally was fine with her child having social media because she regularly checks it all, but Sue was not because you can never see all of the things they look at. But Sally said that we should be guiding them through social media because it is part of our world now… Sue wasn’t having it. Neither was Sarah. Oh had I not mentioned that Sarah was quietly liking certain comments but not others to show her support? Sally needed back up and thankfully Sam came to her rescue and fully supported Sue’s child being on social media because her child has been on it for awhile and hasn’t had any problems.

If we can get past the irony of this debate taking place on social media, then let’s try and deconstruct what Sally, Sue, Sarah, and Sam were all going through. Four different moms, 4 different kids, 4 different households, and 4 different writing styles to convey their points of view which will be misconstrued by anyone who disagrees with it. What could go wrong?! This is purely speculation, but I’m guessing that no one left that debate feeling great. I wasn’t even a part of it, but I left it feeling doubt, fear, and worried that my name didn’t start with an S.

So number one is that I shouldn’t have read it. Should you? Yes, go for it! But I personally can’t read something like that and not get in my head about it. But here’s the thing, do you consider all the aspects of those thoughts and opinions? Like, if you are judging Sally and Sam for letting there kids have social media, did you know that Sally and her husband have recently gotten divorced and the phone became the lifeline for her child to communicate with both parents and that the social media apps seemed fun and were giving her child some joy during a very difficult situation? No? Yeah, neither did I because I DON’T KNOW THEM! Yelling for the people in the back to hear. I don’t know any of them. It feels like I do because they are in the same Mom’s group I’m in for our city, but I don’t. And let’s not forget Sue and Sarah… they are adamant that our kids will be bullied or become depressed or get sex trafficked. All valid concerns and maybe Sue has already had a negative experience on social media to validate them. Don’t know.

But as I go round and round with these thoughts, it occurs to me that I’m suddenly also concerned about what other’s think of my own decisions concerning my kids. How did that happen? And was that even what I was initially worried about? But that’s the sneaky part of social media… the killer of joy… the comparison trap. I walked right in it and didn’t even realize it until I wondered if one of my dear friends was a Sally or a Sue!

So now I have multiple issues I’m worried about and it’s almost midnight. And what even started all of this? Oh yes… because I was on social media trying to relax.

Now before y’all jump in and say that you wouldn’t have thought about all of it like that, I will throw out my disclaimer… that is the point. None of us think in the same way, we don’t process things in the same way, and we don’t “hear” text in the same way. I agree. Stalemate. I don’t know what’s best for you and your family and you don’t know what’s best for mine. Opinions can be extremely helpful in certain situations, but be prepared to filter them into a place that isn’t just causing noise that drowns out your own instincts and thoughts.

So is this post about social media? Is it about letting our children have freedom and independence? Is it about a new book I’m writing where Sally, Sue, Sarah, and Sam all come together to start a podcast to stop them from being on social media? Or is it maybe, just a reminder that as a forty year old woman, even I got discouraged, sad, and sleepless over an online conversation that I wasn’t even a part of, hadn’t even been thinking about, and should have known better than to take to heart… but I did.

And I think I just answered MY own question on whether or not MY kids are ready to handle social media at their ages.

xoxo

B

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There is a term that I need all of you to recognize before we go any further though.

Term:  TheySayers

Meaning:  Those that say the things.

So I found that most of the advice given is from these TheySayers.  For example: “They say that time heals all wounds”  ” They say that love lasts forever”  “They say that good things take time”  “They say if you love something, to set it free”  “They say that I’m crazy.”  Ok, that last one has only been said a few times.  But who are these TheySayers?! They must get tired… so much advice.

I say these things a bit facetiously, but I do understand the sentiments behind them when they are shared.  It’s the knowledge that there isn’t a perfect thing to say to someone who is picking up the pieces of their heart, who is battling cancer, who is struggling with depression, who is battling addiction, who has just lost the love of their life, who is feeling lost.  If I knew the words that could make me feel better on down days then I would have tattooed them on my face!

We’ve all adopted the TheySayers thoughts as go to’s in times of distress.  And I’m guilty too (raises hand)!  I have sat, hand in hand, with my dear friend hours after her husband died in an accident and not had one word in my mind that could possibly bring comfort or meaning to her.  I’ve sat with my 9 year old while he couldn’t sleep for nights after a traumatic loss and literally begged my brain to find the words! But once you have truly known that kind of grief, you know that the TheySayers had good intentions, but brought no comfort.

So how do we give comfort? How do we receive comfort?

We don’t put our expectations on them.

Let that soak in.  We don’t get to decide how they handle their situation.  We don’t get to decide when they should stop feeling bad.  We don’t get to judge who they want to talk to or don’t want to talk to.  We don’t get to feel bad that they didn’t take our advice.  And why?  Because every single situation is different.  It is never cut and dry.  One person’s walk through grief is explosive and angry and they are going to tell you about it, while another’s is silent and long and happens in waves and neither way is wrong.

But how do we know what to do for them, Bridget?! Good question.  I’m still working on that but the one tried and true method I have is doing two things.

1. Prayer/ Good thoughts/ Good vibes- whatever your choice is.  For me personally, I pray for God to surround them in love and comfort and provide them with the right people to help them through such a difficult time and if that’s me, then I am happy to serve.  Give them the love of your thoughts.  Don’t forget them.
2. Which leads to number two.  Has it been on your mind to call them, but maybe you haven’t because of the aforementioned, I have no clue what to say convo?  I get it.  Text them and say you just had them on your mind and you’re sending love.  It’s that simple.

To feel that you have not been forgotten, that your pain is not invisible, is a huge gift.  Don’t understand what someone else is going through? Take heart, they may not know exactly what they are going through either and may just need to know they aren’t alone.  Don’t forget them.  Their silence, while suffering, is not usually a choice.

Matthew 5:4 Says ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.’

Can we fix, can we change, can we talk it away? Probably not.  Can we comfort? Yes.  In the smallest ways anyone can bring comfort.  Never decide that what you can offer is not enough.  A text, a call, a milk shake on a random afternoon.

Let’s provide the comfort and let the TheySayers rest for a bit.

xoxo

Bridget

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One of my friends got a note from a girl that said do you like me, yes or no? I cringed a bit on the inside because as a girl, this sounded like a heartbreak waiting to happen.  I said what did he do with the note? Well I told him that he shouldn’t write back but he should talk to her tomorrow and ask if they could just be friends, just like you told me I should do if I ever got asked that.  This had turned into the most amazing drive home from school we had ever had!

As the only girl in our house, I have tried to be very aware of how men prefer to communicate and I’ve also tried to explain to them how it feels to be on the other side.  As my handsome young man has had some admirers before, and been embarrassed by it, we have had several conversations on what to do and say if this happens to protect both his heart and hers.  I’ve told him that it’s a very brave things to share with someone that you have feelings for them and that it shouldn’t be ignored but you also don’t have to return the same feelings.  We don’t answer notes because it’s not that simple.  It’s not a yes or no.  It’s a thank you, but I’d be happy if we could just be friends.  And it won’t be easy and you will have to be brave to go talk to her just like she was brave to ask you.

Oh my Angel, you made me so proud today.  You heard those conversations and took them to heart and then took it a step further and encouraged a brand new friend to be easy with another’s heart as well.  You won’t always take my advice and that’s fine, but this one warmed my heart so! You make me so proud and knowing that you have such a caring heart above all else, let’s me know that you are as much your grandmother as you are your grandfather.

I know you are hurting this week.  It’s a tough one.  This time last year our dear friend passed suddenly and your little heart was thrown and lost.  I prayed and prayed for your heart to heal and for you to let me help you navigate this horrible road of grief.  It wasn’t a road I wanted you to have to be on again in your short life time but we got through it.  It was months before I saw the light in your eyes again, as it had been, but it was pain that strengthened you and I know helped you to become the young man who isn’t afraid to show others how to care for broken hearts.

xoxo

Month of Thoughts and Prayers

First Entry

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I pictured you undoing all the tucking in and moving of precious stuffed animals so that you could pull back your curtains and stare out the window in your new room.  And then in complete excitement, running down to get me to share in it.

That’s how I feel every day.  So excited to share in this life with you.  Almost in disbelief that I get to love you for my life and beyond.  The way you love me has changed me in so many ways and filled me with all I need.  I pray that my love for you will always give you strength and peace.

My prayers change daily for you.  Most often they are just of thanks.  Thankful for your smile, your love, your laugh, your love of your family, your sensitive heart.

Thank you for coming down after bed last night my angel.  It woke my heart up to remember to be so thankful, so grateful, and completely in this moment of time with you.

You are all the best things.

-Month of Prayers

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I am in the waiting room.  I feel like I have been in the waiting room for 8 months.  It’s been a series of waiting rooms, each designed to test my faith and patience and I’m not convinced I’ve improved in either but I still see the lesson.  The first was waiting for my own surgery.  It had to be done and I had made every possible arrangement I could to ensure my family would be ok while I was out of commission.  The mom guilt was enough to want to just stay in pain.  But they would be ok, right? This felt different though because I knew I would be completely out of commission for at least two weeks.

As I waited in the waiting room with my husband, I suddenly felt panic that I had never had.  Panic that something would go wrong, that my boys would lose me as I had lost my Mom.  That waiting room will do funny things to you.  It will twist your thoughts, it will send your mind down worm holes that almost take the breath right out of you.  I ended up quickly writing letters to the four most precious people in my life.  Four men.  I wrote about the thoughts, the pain, and the heartache that they would feel and then to the strength and love that I knew would still surround them.  I wrote of individual moments and joy.  I wrote of my thankfulness.  My father, my husband, and my two sons, all waiting.

My husband sat in the waiting room without me for 9 hours that day.  Things went wrong.  The plan was changed.  I can only imagine his thoughts during that time.  But after the wait, it was time to wait some more.

The next waiting room was all internal.  I sat and I waited.  Waited to feel better, waited to feel normal, waited to see what good I could find in this huge curve ball thrown at my family.  But it wasn’t the worst waiting room to sit in.  That one was just around the corner.  The worst one was the one I never got to sit in.

The finality was deafening.  Our friend, our neighbor, the loudest laugh in our life, gone before anyone could wait or ask or pray or beg.  One phone call and all I heard was, “He’s in Heaven.”  His story is not for me to tell, but Heaven is a lucky place and I look forward to giving him a hard time again one day.

A different waiting room yet again. There is no end to this waiting room.  I’ve sat in this one before.  There are several different doors, but there is not a clear way out.  It’s grief.  It’s a weight that can’t be lifted.  My husband helped me into the viewing.  Afterwards we sat in our car both inconsolable, knowing that we had just said goodbye to not only a dear friend, but our boys had lost such a special man in their life.  So what do we wait for now? Do we wait to feel better? Do we wait to see if we can help our precious friend and her daughter out of the deepest pain they have ever known?  No, we wouldn’t wait, we would just do.  We swore right there that we would never stop helping them look for those doors out of the pain.  Even if it only gave them moments of relief.

This will be the first time on Windgate Lane that I will quote a Bible Verse.  “After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:9-10, KJV).  Thy will be done.  To me this means that I will get on my knees and relinquish what I believe should and shouldn’t be in my life. I will live in a way that waits, but doesn’t question.  How does that look? I don’t know.  It looks messy I guess.  It looks like tears, laughter, fighting exhaustion that feels unbeatable, and finding strength again and again.

Was there purpose in all this pain?  Yes.  The tears on the floor were wept in the greatest love that I have ever seen.  Because love doesn’t know bounds of life and death, it is one in the same.  Inexplicable gut wrenching beauty is seen while laying a soul to rest.  You will see every emotion mirrored by an opposite, because in that waiting room it is all the same.

So it wasn’t ever just a waiting room, it was sitting in the mirrors of emotions.  The family to my right learned that there mom’s surgery wasn’t as extensive as they had thought and would make a full recovery from her cancer.  In his overalls, this man, father, husband stood and embraced the doctor as tears fell.  He had no words.  Probably because he has sat here before.  He has sat in the uncertainty and gotten the news that didn’t bring on the same kind of tears.

The Asian family was spoken to softly and went back to see their loved one, the man was finally taken back, and then it was just me and his ring.  An hour longer than expected and the fear and thoughts started to creep in.  What would happen? What would change our plan? Would I figure it out? Would we be ok? But then I remembered… I can live in the wait… I can’t live in the question! Inevitably there isn’t a clear answer, and while we can all live in that frustration, we can also celebrate that there is never just one door to walk out of.

It was close to 4 hours that I sat silently holding his ring.  And then they opened the door and I got to cry my tears.  My tears of relief that he was ok, my tears of sadness that he would be entering a difficult recovery while I was still in one myself, and my tears of guilt that I would place the ring back on his finger and my husband was coming home when my dear friend’s didn’t.

Life is a waiting room.

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