Gift

The Greatest Gift

Posted on by Lauren

“You need to tell her. You need to get into your car right now, go over there and tell her.” my husband encouraged. 

It was the eve of my birthday. We were on our front porch and I had just read aloud a letter I’d found while cleaning out my father’s condo. Apparently, he had kept a file for each of his children. In mine I found every report card, parent/teacher conference record and a collection of letters. 

What a treasure trove of memories this was for me to dive deeply into. 

But the one dated December 11, 1987 left me breathless.

If you’ve followed my blog, then you know the story of my beginning. I am the illegitimate love- child of a long-term affair. My parents worked together but no one suspected, not even after I was born. My older sisters, who also worked with my parents, knew me as “Pam’s daughter” but did not learn I was their half-sister until I was three. 

My mother was a powerful business woman. She was charismatic, magnetic, and inspiring. She meant much to many across the entire country but it was me, who wanted her attention the most. 

I spent so many years of my life resentful and angry for the time she’d spent building her career in place of a closer relationship with me. Now that I have a daughter very similar to me, when I was a child, I understand how challenging it must have been to forge that relationship. I didn’t make it easy. 

I finished this letter and instantaneously, my anger evaporated leaving nothing but remorse in its wake. 

I desperately wanted to call her and tell her how sorry I was for failing to recognize the love she had held for me my entire life. I was so busy focusing on her shortcomings that, as a result, I completely missed her devotion and steadfast love. 

My mother advocated for me. She encouraged my father to maintain a relationship with me not just in this letter but in other letters I found in the file: inviting him to conferences, recording my thoughts to him pen-to-paper when I could not yet write. 

How could I ever thank her enough for that gift? The gift of the presence of my father? 

What if I had found this after her death and had never apologized? 

What if my father hadn’t kept these letters for me to one day find?

But he did and she’s still here and my husband willed me to go to her. 

I couldn’t get a hold of her until the next day but when she answered, I started by telling her how much I loved her followed immediately by how sorry I was for remaining angry with her for so long. I thanked her for loving me anyway, in spite of my anger. For never giving up on me. Not then and not now. 

It was my birthday. 

And it was the greatest gift I’ve ever received. 

Love, forgiveness, and gratitude. 

The Gift of Time

Posted on by Lauren

It’s a well-known fact that we have a tendency to over-correct.

I just wonder how many of us recognize when we are doing it. 

I did when it came time to create the annual “Gift of Time” envelopes for my girls. 

A few years ago, in an effort to guarantee one-on-one time with mom or dad, I gifted each girl a stack of 12 envelopes- one for each month. Inside, a card with an activity they could choose to do with just mom or dad- no sisters. 

We were drowning with the responsibility of caring for our health-challenged youngest, not to mention juggling four young kids. The Gift of Time ensured we got that one-on-one time with each daughter. 

But, year-after-year, it turned into expectation. 

When they opened the envelope and it was a trip to the library or a bike ride, instead of the bowling alley or putt-putt, they were crestfallen. 

I realized I was creating presumptuous monsters, instead of appreciated moments. 

So, I’ve paused. Reevaluating. 

Sure, I want that precious time but at what cost?

I spent my adulthood wishing I’d had a closer relationship with my mother, when I was a child. 

But what if my children rely too much on their parents to feel satiated?

Is it possible that I’m setting them up for failure? A childhood so idyllic, it’s difficult to replicate? Is that a crime?

I’ve parented long enough to become comfortable in the gray- the not knowing the next step. 

Instead of forcing my choice, I watch and wait. 

The Gift of Time. 

Gift

Posted on by Lauren

There’s a reason the stewardess instructs you to put on your own oxygen mask before your child’s. 

You are no good to anyone when you’re passed out. 

So, today, when I told my therapist that my doctor explained I was anemic at my latest physical, she chuckled, “Well, that’s telling, isn’t it?”

As a universal donor, I’ve been donating roughly every 8 weeks until recently, when I was turned away for low iron.

There’s always a shortage and since I have the blood everyone needs, I always say yes.

But the theme of “taking care of myself” has been commonly discussed during therapy so it came as no surprise to my therapist to learn I had once again, run my well dry. 

It’s all about setting healthy boundaries.  

Pouring into my cup first, before sharing with others. 

“I can write a letter, if you need.” My doctor offered. 

I laughed, “No, I’m a big girl.  I can tell them No.”

A hard word for me to ever say. 

There’s always a need.

But I want to be here for the long haul, not just the present emergency. 

So, I set boundaries. 

I say, “No.”  

I take care of myself.  

And in the end, that’s my greatest gift to others. 

Camille Vaughan Photography