Lillie

Wow...I read over my old posts this evening and I'd hoped things would change. Unfortunately, I'm 29 now and in the past three years, I've grown up a bit, but my current love life looks incredibly similar to my love life at age 26. As I lie here in my bed, with my cat (who is staring at me and purring loudly), I wonder if this will be my life when I'm 35...or 45. It's a tad scary, but I think it's safe this way for now. I spent most of my twenties mulling over men, when all the while, I really needed to fall in love with Christ all over again.

It is kind of amazing to reflect on my life up to this point. There have been men; some good, some bad, but all my own developments. I think most people look back to their childhoods to identify issues that they have in their adult lives. It's valid, I'm sure. I can look back at my life and blame my dad for not being around when I needed him there. I could blame my mom for never marrying. I could blame both of my parents for not demonstrating to me what a healthy, loving relationship between a man and a woman looks like. On the contrary, though, I don't blame my parents at all. I'm grateful for having had food on the table, for seeing a woman take care of herself and her own responsibilities first. I'm grateful that my mom didn't parade men through our house and I didn't have to worry about being violated by a devil-spawn with heinous intentions and warped ideals about little girls. I could tell my mom everything. I told her when I lost my virginity, when I got pregnant, about my first kiss. She wasn't the advisory-type mom, though. She would never tell me what to do in situations, but she always had good guidance and personal experiences to share. 

I've always been baffled my dad's decision to leave my mother. She was the definition of beauty: a tall, sepia-toned, poised Amazon with the heart of a goddess and the soul of an angel. She was a true social butterfly. She had the sort of human magnetism that I've always dreamed of having. People were drawn to her like bears and honey. When we were younger, our family was probably the lowest on the socioeconomic totem of all of our friends. We moved 15 times from the time I was 3 years old until I graduated from undergrad. Through all of the moving and turned off utilities, our childhood friends still preferred to be at our home more than their own. I didn't understand this for years, until I realized that my mother provided a type of stability that didn't come from her wallet. We knew that we were loved unconditionally. I don't know what the other kids' families were like, but I can only assume that they were missing something vital in order to want to stay at our house, where the gas and hot water was occasionally off. At her memorial service, over 300 people came, most of whom I'd never met in my life. They were young and old acquaintances, friends of friends, and family. It brought tears to my eyes to see all the people who came just to honor my humble mother.