Invisible Mothers...YOU MUST READ!

Discussion in 'General Parenting' started by tycjcj, Feb 7, 2008.

  1. tycjcj

    tycjcj fighting for his rights

    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
    > head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
    > I'm invisible.
    > Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix
    > 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
    > 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
    > eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated - but now
    > 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
    > sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style
    > dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean.. My
    > unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I
    > actually smell peanut butter in it. 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
    > cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to
    > until I read her inscription: "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:
    > * No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record
    > of their names.
    > * These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never
    > see finished.
    > * They made great sacrifices and expected no credit..
    > * 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
    > a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the
    > man, "Why are you spending s o 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
    > almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you. 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 ri ght now what it
    > 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
    > own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn
    > pride.
    > When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the
    > he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up
    > 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes
    > 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
    > say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
    > As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if
    > doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world
    > 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.
  2. staciemf

    staciemf New Member

    That was awesome...goosebumps...tears. I needed that. Thanks for sharing!
  3. tycjcj

    tycjcj fighting for his rights

    I am glad you were touched by this. So many parents don't understand what parents of special needs children go through every hour of everyday. God bless us all and give us the love we need to do the very best we can!
  4. Big Bad Kitty

    Big Bad Kitty lolcat


    Also sitting here in a pool of tears. I'm feeling just like that today.

    You may be a "noob" to the board, but not to parenting a difficult child.
  5. Marguerite

    Marguerite Active Member

    What a marvellous analogy!

    And to add to the analogy - building a cathedral was dangerous to your health and well-being. People died wither directly from injuries, or indirectly through long-term exposure to things like lime-burning, to make the mortar. These were nameless faces, but without their expertise those buildings would never had been built, let alone be still standing.

    I used to work in one of Sydney's oldest buildings, constructed from the native yellow sandstone. The building is roofed with slate and the walls festooned with the most amazing gargoyles. But the Sydney sandstone is soft, over time (and acid rain) bits break off. I actually have some of these bits in my garden - they would photograph the broken bits (for later reconstruction) and then throw them in the rubbish. I fetched them from the rubbish and brought them home.

    I watched as, over some months, some expert stonemasons were brought in to carve two new gargoyles. I had a very good vantage - one was right above the door to our work area. When the work was done I was disappointed - the two new gargoyles still had the same boxy look of the block of stone they'd come from. They looked very similar to each other and had no character, compared to some of the creative monstrosities everywhere else.

    Those old skills have been undervalued and as a result we are in danger of losing them.

    And the same applies to parenting.

  6. Wiped Out

    Wiped Out Well-Known Member Staff Member

    This was great-thanks for sharing!
  7. mum2JK&TH

    mum2JK&TH New Member

    Perfect timing for this....thank you :)
  8. crazymama30

    crazymama30 Active Member

    Wow, that was too true. Thank you.
  9. KTMom91

    KTMom91 Well-Known Member

    Thank you so much...this was just what I needed right now!
  10. PersonalEnigma

    PersonalEnigma New Member

    That was beautiful. Thanks!
  11. tryinghard

    tryinghard New Member

    How very true. There are so many times that I am so tired and I want to just give up. When ever I feel that way again, I will read this. Thank you so much for sharing:D
  12. Hound dog

    Hound dog Nana's are Beautiful

    Thank you. I've been feeling a bit invisible myself here lately.

  13. TerryJ2

    TerryJ2 Well-Known Member

    "With admiration for the greatness of
    > what you are building when no one sees."

    Oh, wow. That is awesome. Beautiful. You made my day. And she made yours... and then some.
    Way To Go! Take care. Continue on with-the cathedral.
  14. happymomof2

    happymomof2 New Member

    We all know why we do it day after day but sometimes - most times - we forget.