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Just a little pick me up…
THE INVISIBLE MOTHER
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’ Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude – but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: (1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names. (2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. (3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. (4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.’ And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.’
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction but it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my child to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, ‘You’re gonna love it there.’
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
twindragonsmum 😀
tdm
twindragonsmum wrote:Just a little pick me up…
THE INVISIBLE MOTHER
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’ Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude – but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: (1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names. (2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. (3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. (4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.’ And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.’
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction but it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my child to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, ‘You’re gonna love it there.’
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
twindragonsmum 😀
Thank you for sharing such an amazing story that you never think about until you read something like thisALSO
my favorite Old School Hollywood Squares answer
I can’t remember the star but the question was why where zippers invented and the stars answer “was to prevent zipper burns”!!!
If I remember correctly the right answer was for warmthHere’s something that was recently sent to me via email! Here kitty, kitty, kitty snerk!
We’ve all had trouble with our animals, but I don’t think anyone can top this one:
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I’m lying…
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.
Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
‘Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it.’
‘You know where the button is,’ I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. ‘Reset it yourself!’
‘But I’m scared!’ she persisted. ‘What if it starts going and sucks me in?’
There was a meaningful pause and then, ‘C’mon, it’ll only take you a second.’
So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behaviour as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn’t the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a ‘fight or flight’ syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the ‘flight’ option I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold..
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.
Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of ‘been-there, done-that’ paramedics. Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter……and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
‘What’s the matter?’ They all asked, ‘Cat got your tongue?’
If they only knew!Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
XD‘OESTROGEN ISSUES’
10 WAYS TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE ‘OESTROGEN ISSUES’
1. Everyone around you has an attitude problem.
2. You’re adding chocolate chips to your cheese omelette.
3. The dryer has shrunk every last pair of your jeans.
4. Your husband is suddenly agreeing to everything you say.
5. You ‘re using your mobile phone to dial up every bumper sticker that says: ‘How’s my driving-call 0800-‘.
6. Everyone’s head looks like an invitation to batting practice..
7. Everyone seems to have just landed here from ‘outer space.’
8. You’re sure that everyone is scheming to drive you crazy..
9. The Nurofen Plus box is empty and you bought it yesterday.TOP TEN THINGS ONLY WOMEN UNDERSTAND
10. Cats’ facial expressions.
9. The need for the same style of shoes in different colors.
8. Why bean sprouts aren’t just weeds.
7. Fat clothes.
6. Taking a car trip without trying to beat your best time.
5. The difference between beige, ecru, cream, off-white, and eggshell.
4. Cutting your hair to make it grow.
3. Eyelash curlers.
2. The inaccuracy of every bathroom scale ever made.AND, the Number One thing only women understand:
OTHER WOMEN
Girlie Wisdom!
1. A friend of mine confused her Valium with her birth control pills… she has 14 kids but she doesn’t really care..
2. One of life’s mysteries is how a 2-pound box of chocolates can make a woman gain 5 lbs.
3. My mind not only wanders, it sometimes leaves completely.
4. The best way to forget your troubles is to wear tight shoes.
5. The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don’t know what you are doing, someone else does.
6. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight, because by then your body and your fat are really good friends.
7. Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today…
8. Sometimes I think I understand everything, and then I regain consciousness.
9. I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting fire to my panties.
10. Amazing! You hang something in your closet, for a while, and it shrinks 2 sizes!
11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like…’You know sometimes I forget to eat!’ …..Now, I’ve forgotten my address, my mother’s maiden name, and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!
12.. The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing — and then they marry him.
13. I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That’s my idea of a perfect day!
twindragonsmum 😀
tdm
I think we should make something like a bumper sticker out of #11. How on earth can you forget to eat?
Read my books! Volume 1 and 2 of A Dragon Medley are available now.
http://www.sarahjestin.com/mybooks.htm
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http://www.sarahjestin.com/feedbacklists.htmdragonmedley wrote:I think we should make something like a bumper sticker out of #11. How on earth can you forget to eat?
I can forget momentarily… then my stomach grumbles and reminds me. I don’t know how you could forget COMPLETELY. 😮
😆 😆 @ setting panties on fire….
THIS IS A SIGN OF THE TIMES. DON’T GET CAUGHT IN THIS ONE
The other stall:
Traveling down the interstate and needing to use the restroom,
I stopped at a rest area and headed to the restroom.I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying:
“Hi, how are you?”I’m not the type to start a conversation in the restroom and I don’t know what got into me,
But I answered, somewhat embarrassed,
“Doin’ just fine!”And the other person says:
“So what are you up to?”What kind of question is that? At that point, I’m thinking this is too bizarre so I say:
“Uhhh, I’m like you, just traveling!”??At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I hear another question.
“Can I come over?”Ok, this question is just too weird for me but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation.. I tell them
“No..I’m a little busy right now!!!”Then I hear the person say nervously…
“Listen, I’ll have to call you back. There’s an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questionsCell phones, don’t you just love them!
May you always have love to share, health to spare, and friends that care!
twindragonsmum 😀
tdm
11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like…’You know sometimes I forget to eat!’ …..Now, I’ve forgotten my address, my mother’s maiden name, and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!
I LOVES IT!!!!I feel so sorry for that guy, but thanks for sharing LadyFirebird
twindragonsmum wrote:11. Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like…’You know sometimes I forget to eat!’ …..Now, I’ve forgotten my address, my mother’s maiden name, and my keys, but I have never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat!
Oops, guilty. I love to eat and tend to eat a lot more than others when I do, but I also find myself forgetting to eat sometimes too. I am usually to absorbed in something at the time.
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