A Difficult Conversation

Not exactly hurting for material, I happened upon a blog called Mama's Losing It, wherein one of the blogger's categories is called Writer's Workshop. Every Sunday night she issues a few new writing prompts. The reader/fellow blogger who is looking for inspiration or to cure a mild to severe case of writer's block (a disease I rarely contract), can choose one and take it away.

I decided on the prompt to write about a difficult conversation.

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I seldom remember full conversations. Rather, I remember the gist of many of the ones I've had throughout my life. Once in a while, treasured snippets of advice from souls brave enough to speak them have told me like it is. Here are some difficult words that have been delivered to me, some kindly, some not so kindly, but nonetheless invaluable for my personal growth. In no particular order:

1. Said to me by an experienced mother of three when I was "on the fence" about taking a lethargic, non-focusing baby to the ER at night rather than waiting till the morning. "Trust your God-given, maternal instincts. If you think there's something really wrong with your child, there probably is." There was.

2. Said to me when I used the arrogant line, "I just know what he's going to say. He's going to say...." a godly, older woman rebuked me lovingly: "You don't know what anybody is going to say. Only God does." She awakened me to a bad habit of playing the Omniscient One in speech.

3. Said to me by close family members at various times: You talk too much. I have tried to be a better listener and less of a talker. Being around overtalkers is draining, and I shudder to think people avoid me like I avoid motor mouths. If you've known me more than three years, please let me know if I'm doing better in zipping the lips and unzipping the ears.

4. Said to me by an ER doctor about a son who took a hard hit to the chest in a football game: "We need to transport him to Shock Trauma. He could develop a pulmonary aneurysm and we aren't equipped here to mess with those."

5. Said to me by one of my children at about age ten: "I hate when you and Dad fight. It makes me afraid you might get a divorce like so many of my friends' parents." Nothing has made me cry more deeply in my life than to realize that my anger has caused my children to feel insecure.

6. Said to me by more than one person in the family: "You need to go on a diet." How true it is. I fell off the Weight Watchers bandwagon several months ago and have regretted my demise. It's sad how, the larger I get, the more invisible and less loved I feel. It's just a feeling, not the truth, but how powerful feelings are!

7. Said to me by an orthopedist after I gave birth to my last child: "You have ruptured all the ligaments in your pelvis. For the next four to six weeks, you will have to stay in bed--lying first on one side for two hours and then on the other for two hours--so that your hips come back together. We don't know know when you'll be able to feel your bladder again, and you will need to use a walker. I hope you have someone to take care of you."

8. Said to me by an obstetrician, twice in three years: "I'm sorry, but there is no heartbeat."

9. Said to me by a daughter who accepted a summer job three hours away: "It's just eight weeks. It's not forever." It only felt like it.

10. Said to me by my best friend on Christmas Day, 1994: "Mom's gone. She passed away this morning."
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I don't like to write sad posts. I like humorous ones, but the truth is, comic relief is a welcome thing after hearing so many difficult things. But the difficult things have made me stronger--or weaker--as needed for my life. How about you? Care to write a difficult post? If you'd prefer not to, but want to be prompted to write something
on your blog, pay a visit to Mama Kat.