Not a lot of people know this: my mom has depression. She's had it for as long as I can remember. We didn't know what it was for years, but it would quietly show its face after a tee-ball game, or on a Saturday afternoon. We just thought that's how she was, it was part of her personality. But by the time I reached the seventh grade, she wasn't getting out of bed, she was crying all the time, she wasn't eating. I would come home from school and find her on the couch. I would hold her and listen to her talk about how she wanted to die. How she wasn't worth it. What do you say to that? What do you say to your
mother, who is supposed to be the strong one...the adult?
I was 13 years old when she was finally diagnosed and hospitalized for several weeks. Every single day my dad would visit her. He would go straight from work and stay with her until visiting hours were over. My sister and I would go on the weekends sometimes to visit. I was learning how to cook and do laundry and pack our lunches.
Now, as an adult, I look back on that time and realize what an amazing relationship my parents have. It would have been so easy for my dad to walk away. He was stressed at work, he had a wife who was dying, and two daughters to raise. And my mom could have let the depression swallow her. She could have shut us out and holed herself up. But they didn't. Now, 15 years later, my parents don't have a flawless marriage. But I challenge you to name two people who do. My mom is still difficult to get along with. My dad can be emotionally distant sometimes. But they love each other and they stayed together through some really dark times.
In church today, Pastor Tim told us about two members of our church who had passed a way a while ago. The story was a man whose wife had a mental illness. I really connected with it. To the point of tears. And I
abhor crying in public. I stayed after the sermon to thank Tim for sharing that with the congregation. And just as I opened my mouth to say thank you, I started crying again. On the way home I called my folks to tell them I loved them and I appreciate them. I left a message on their machine, and could barely get through that without becoming choked up.
I realized on my drive home from church the reason I don't like showing my emotions in front of others. We used to go out to eat a lot as a family, even when my mom was at her worst. Because you never knew when it was going to hit. She would want to go out and live a "normal" life. So we would head to Bill Knapp's. But right before our food came, she would start to cry. Or get really angry. And it was completely mortifying to me, a child, that her mother couldn't keep it together in public. But she wouldn't want to leave because she wanted to be
normal. It was very important for her that we sit through the meal. I hated her sometimes for that. I just wanted to disappear. I wanted the other diners to stop staring at us.
So, even though I can't imagine being fully comfortable crying in front of another person, I realized today where that all stemmed from. And I was thankful for Pastor Tim and his service. But most of all, I was thankful for my parents. I love them. I respect them. And I called today to tell them.
