To My Children: More than a Mrs.
Topic : Daily Glimpses
The holiday cards are coming in
Mr. and Mrs. “Insert husband’s name” here.
I used to send cards like this
Specifically, our wedding invitations.
Thrilled for the new role I was about to have.
Now, I find it irritating.
I’m reduced to three letters in my household.
I’m at the park, two women are talking.
“I got his mom beautiful flowers for the Thanksgiving table
They weren’t cheap, you know?
And she told me to take them home”
Last year, I asked my friend how the holidays went
“It went well,” she said.
“Everyone stayed in their lane”
My own words:
“What do you think about having just us for the birthday this year?”
Knowing it will never happen
The potential for hurt feelings and anger
overpowering the desire for a quiet weekend at home.
How much of this life is obligation?
How much do we do to not offend?
I read a piece written by a woman who has now died of cancer
she wrote that she realized her sunrises were finite,
And started waking early to catch every one.
I think of her often as I look at my life.
The errands I run,
The bills I pay,
The compromises I make.
We’re told that getting married is the goal,
that a nice home and a good car are success.
That these things will be what satisfies.
They do not.
You are more than a “Mrs.”
You are more than a “Mr.”
You are you.
Don’t sacrifice yourself for the illusion.
And don’t send out letters with sexist mailing addresses.