The Moment That Shouldn't Matter

Today, apparently, is brought to you by the letter "M."

Then the time came when the risk it took to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
-Anais Nin

...they held so tightly to what they had that they could not open their hands to receive what was to come.
--Erwin McManus, "Chasing Daylight"

And we must be willing to be rid of the life we had planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
--Joseph Campbell

Last Saturday, my mother and I had dinner in Seattle.

At one point, she and I had talked about relationships. Now, in the history of Abby and her mother, this is not a topic of conversation that comes up often, if ever. For the most part, the conversation went without incident, despite the vulnerable subject matter. However, at the end of the conversation, I admitted something that I don't usually let slip.

Mom: So, are you going to Christie's (my cousin from New Jersey, currently located in Virginia) wedding?
Me: As far as I know.
Mom: I thought about you after she got engaged. Also after Sam's (my other cousin) engagement.
Me: [nervously] In what way?
Mom: Well, I wondered how you felt with your younger cousins getting married before you.

Great. Yes, Mom. My greatest fears are coming true. Spinsterhood is on the horizon.

Me: It's fine.
Mom: I know.
Me: You don't have to worry about me.
Mom: I know. But I do. But I know why you haven't gotten married yet. You've had one event in your life that has made this very hard for you.
Me: [flippantly] There has been more than just him, Mom.

As they typically do when my mother jumps to the most devastating conclusion, my mother's eyes grew. Finally hearing what I had just said, I straighten up in my chair and tried to compensate. Clarify. Calm her fearful notions about her little girl.

Me: Don't worry. Nothing happened. Really. But yes, in the ten years I've been in Tacoma, similar events have happened. Some were beyond my control. Some were because I made poor choices. But I do not regret anything or anyone who tried to hurt me.
Mom: I didn't realize it was more than him. [To this day, she still can't say his name. Ah, the irony.]
Me: It's fine, really.
Mom: But it isn't. He started it all, didn't he? He is the reason why you're not married.
Me: He isn't the reason why I am not married. What happened did contribute, but he isn't the reason why I am still single.
Mom: But he's the reason why you're different. Why you're not ready.
Me: I don't know if being "ready" is the right question.
Mom: [not hearing me.] I didn't know there were others.

[Mom fidgets. I suddenly remember a similar scene when I was younger when I first told her about "him." I hold back tears as I try to help Mom through her crisis in her false belief that she had failed as a mother.]

Me: Really Mom, everything is going to be ok. I'm fine. You did nothing wrong.
Mom: [eyes still wide, but somewhat relieved.] Ok.

[Awkward silence. A familiar territory. End scene.]

I came away with our conversation with the following revelations:

1. My mother somewhat blames the event at St. Stephen's as the reason why I am not married.
2. My mother does not know me. Nor does anyone else in my family, for that matter.
3. The moment that my mother had referred to still affects me in a way that I do not care to admit or own up to.
4. Of the things that I fear the most, marriage and the Moment that Shouldn't Matter tops the list. I wish I could say I was courageous and that I could talk about these things without crying. But apparently, I can't.
5. Of the things that I struggle with most, marriage and the Moment that Shouldn't Matter, tops the list. For future conversations with my mom, I will remember not to wander into this territory.

I've been thinking a lot about this conversation with my mother a lot lately. I thought about why I wasn't married and how I felt about that. I thought about The-Moment-That-Shouldn't-Matter and how I felt still feel about it.

But for the most part, I wondered if there would ever come a time when I would unclench my rebellious fist, drop The-Moment-That-Shouldn't-Matter, and with an open hand receive the abundant life my Abba Father has for me.

I am much more than the things I fear. I am much more than what my mother believes about me. I am much more than the not married one in my family. I am much more than the Moment-That-Shouldn't-Matter.

I'm not there yet. But I will be.

Just not today.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
--John, John 10:10