Sentimental Journey

This past Saturday I went to an event with about 300 ladies in attendance. The day included laughter, food, fun, gift baskets (I won a baking basket), great lessons ... and tears.

Well it was a gathering of ladies, after all.

In one of the sessions, the main speaker told us the story of her oldest child who was seventeen years old when he was killed in a car accident. The purpose of her story was to show how God works in our lives and how He cares for us, but it was such a sad story that about ninety percent of the ladies in the room were in tears.

I was not in that 90%. 

It's not that I'm heartless. I know some women cry at the drop of a hat, but I work very hard at not crying in public for several reasons. For one, I'm an ugly crier. And if that's not enough, I always end up with raccoon eyes. Don't bother telling me about waterproof mascara. It doesn't help.

The main reason, though, that I don't cry in public is because I raised boys. Like most males, tears make my guys very uncomfortable. And with that in mind, I've always tried to be careful about crying in front of them. I don't want my tears to make them so uncomfortable that they're willing to do almost anything to avoid having me cry. I don't think that's a healthy way to handle tears. And I absolutely did not want them to be easily manipulated by tears. That could end up being a problem once they got married.

So I didn't cry when most of the other women did. But I was still moved by the story. At one point the speaker encouraged us with the thought that, if we wanted to express love and appreciation to our children, don't wait. Do it now. Because you don't want to regret a missed opportunity later on.

With that in mind, I decided to quickly text my children and let them know I loved them. I started to do a group text, but expressing sentimental thoughts to the entire group usually does not end well. So instead I texted each of them individually (well, I copied and pasted, but the sentiment was real) that I loved them and I hoped they had a great day. Here were their texted answers that showed up on my phone during the next session:

Luke:  You know my cousin's brother's aunt told that to all her children. And then she left home.

Stephanie:  I love you too!

Nick:  Are you still alive?

Joel:  I will! I love you too!

Matt:  What's wrong? Are you dying? Can I sell your jewelry on eBay?

I guess sometimes sentiment can be overrated. So instead I laughed and enjoyed my not-so-normal family. After all, it's the thought that counts.

P.S. In case you didn't notice, I left one of my children's responses out. That would be because Paul never answered my text at all. That's right. No answer at all. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Nada. 

I'm still waiting for you to acknowledge your mother's love, Paul.

Manipulation may be wrong, but guilt is always an acceptable tool.