"We go through life mishearing and misseeing and misunderstanding so that the stories we tell ourselves will add up" -- from an article on a murder trial by Janet Malcolm in The New Yorker.
Here's a story that would be easy for me to tell myself: It's your time. You spent 16 years as a stay-at-home mom, ten plus homeschooling. You have gone without, scrimped and saved, sacrificed your career. You have been peed on, sucked on, drawn on, and pooped on. You taught four children how to read, add, subtract, and multiply fractions, and when you were done memorizing the sequence of events from the start of the Minoan culture through the fate of Henry VIII's wives, you re-emerged into a hostile work environment where employers regarded you with a mixture of pity and disdain -- as though the hole in your resume could mean only one thing: your brain had turned to mush. So you proved yourself through menial assignments under career-minded men and women who gave lip service to your choice on the one hand and regarded your abilities, your drive, your priorities as suspect on the other. You've logged innumerable hours at sporting events and recitals. You've sacrificed new outfits and sleep. . . . It's your time.
Only the story doesn't quite add up. The children were a gift. The staying home was a gift. I sacrificed, yes. It cost me, yes, but the children and the experiences I've had with them have given back tenfold. If I gain nothing else ever -- no satisfying career, no disposable income -- I would not change a thing. It has been a rich, rewarding life.
God has done right by me. I will trust him with the next stage of my life. I will let him choose.
No comments:
Post a Comment