Manikin Mommy

I was daydreaming that I was running as fast as I could down the road with the ipod playing in my ears. My feet hit the road with every beat to every song perfectly and rhythmically. The sunset was painted magnificently in the sky right in front of me and I was chasing it. I turned my head and saw as Grandpa was mowing the ditches with his tractor. He waved and called me over to him again, just like he does every time I have this daydream. "What are you doing running out here in this heat? Get on up here and I'll take you down to Grandma's!" He insists. Na, I'm fine Grandpa, I love this heat, it’s the best to run in! I'm used to it." I smile and run off.
I've had this daydream/memory for years. It really did happen but the places and the times change in my daydreams. I think it is my way of trying to bring him with me. I want to tell him about the boys, I want to ask him about the house we are building. I want him to laugh that giant belly laugh that made my heart glow. But, I think secretly the real reason I think of him so much in this daydream is because Grandpa always saw me as being uniquely me. To him, I was special. To him, the man I married was the luckiest man in the world. He even told Ted that he would never actually give me away at the wedding, but he would share me with him! To him, my faults, and my weaknesses made me special and uniquely me. He was confident in my strengths, and now I am certain, no one even knows what those are.
There is something about becoming a wife and mother that strips you down to a naked manikin. You are bendable and pose able. You serve a purpose. You are a placeholder, a filler at best. "This is my wife", "This is my Mom", "This is Ted's wife", "This is Grant and Jake's Mom", "This is our son's wife", "This is my brother's wife", Oh and the real killer is no introduction at all as if you don't deserve to be noticed ....
I am Jo.
I was at church on Sunday and realized that I was alone. Arline was up North and Ted never goes with me. I was sitting in the pew by myself. I didn't feel awkward or out of place. It felt right. The sermon was about renewing thyself. He made a distinction between buying something new and simply renewing something that has been worn down. Something worn down could be something that is showing the signs of being weathered by the storms of life; like a lawn chair for example. I closed my eyes and pictured this old wooden lawn/deck chair with deep cuts in the wood and chipped paint, loose screws, a missing leg and a cracked seat. Do I throw the chair out or do I put a little love into renewing the chair and in the end have a greater appreciation for that chair than I had before? What if the chair was me? What if I put a little love into renewing myself? Would I also have a greater appreciation for this "chair" in the end? It's not selfish to take time to renew me. Especially if it means having a greater appreciation for whom I am in the end.
I had been waiting for the right moment to do this, but was hesitant because I wanted to make sure I was making this decision for "me" and not for anyone else. But, this was the church service I chose to walk up at the end of the service and ask for my letter of membership transfer from that little church back home that did so much for my life to this new and loving faith family I had found. The minister hugged me and cheerfully piped up to tell the congregation what I had said. If you don't remember from that old post I will explain for a minute. At the end of every church service the minister says to the congregation that during the last hymn all those who wish to change their membership to our church or would like to share with the church of how Christ as touched their during that week, then they may come forward to the front of the church during that time. So while the congregation was still singing, I walked from my pew up to the front and asked the minister all by myself, for myself, and for my children. It felt empowering to have not told anyone about it and just doing it on a whim. I liked it better that way. I didn't want people to see me as just Ted's wife, Russ's sister-in-law, or Arlene’s daughter-in-law...I want them to see me as a strong person who also has dreams and aspirations that I have put on hold for my children. (Just the same, I'm not a follower. I've always made a bad follower. I laugh at this because I really was only designed to be a leader. My mother joked that if there were ever going to be group assignments we better hope that they only put me in a group of submissive followers!)
I needed to do this on my own. It was a great feeling and after the church did their acceptance prayer, they all got into a long line and came through to introduce themselves and give me hugs. I felt visible for the first time in a very long time.
I belong here in this church family. My boys love this church already and they people at this church are so kind and giving it feels blessed to be part of it all. Now if only I could get Ted to go to church I would be teaching our son's exactly what I have always wanted when it came to faith. Rain, or shine, happiness, stress, sadness, busy-ness, work schedules. Sunday's should be sacred. My grandpa used to come to church almost every Sunday during planting and harvest. He may have had two or three hours of sleep at most and then after church he would eat a big Sunday Lunch with his family. He was tired but he was happy and involved. The after we all finished eating he slipped over into his recliner and fell asleep for the afternoon while 7 grandchildren and their parents ran in circles around him. To each his own. But the difference here is that Ted works from 11pm to 7am and needs to sleep until 3pm at least so he misses out on church and Sunday lunches. I'm beginning to think he is just as disappointed about it as I am.