A lesson from graduation

It’s over…high school graduation that is! My son is officially done with his K-12 education…he is an adult…he is off to college.

I made it…high school graduation that is! I raised a respectful, intelligent, and compassionate young man…ready to take on the world.

Retrospect is an amazing thing. Today I realized that I spent most of the graduation season looking back (going through old photos for the graduation poster and photo album) or looking to the future (how will I cope with him away at college…what will our life look like in this next chapter?). In between the past and the future, I spent some time in the present.

I had a barbecue to celebrate my son’s graduation. As my gift to him I vowed to not freak out about the condition of the house, the imperfect backyard, the lack of time to do all the special things I wanted to, and the inevitable chaos surrounding food prep (for the most part I kept my vow…mainly because I asked for help and I graciously received it). Instead I focused on enjoying each moment. I laughed, cried, shared, loved, and observed. I watched my son as he navigated the crowd…making sure each person there was talked to…was made to feel welcome…was appreciated. I participated in all that he is.

Perhaps that is the biggest lesson I can take away from his graduation…I need to enjoy and revel in the “right now”. It isn’t about surviving the thought of “empty nest”. It isn’t about questioning why the years went by so fast…it is about appreciating where we are.

I have spent the last 18 years worrying if I did enough of the “right” things and fretting about what comes next. While I think it goes against our human nature to spend 100% of our time in present moment…I need to consciously choose to engage in life as it unfolds.

I wonder if a post-it note or a string around my finger will help me remember…habits are hard to change. - Cathy

Your Average Single Mom...

If normal is just a setting on the dryer, then perhaps average should be relegated to baseball stats. Cathy forwarded some November 2009 US Census Bureau statistics from a study* that were pretty eye-opening about the “average” single parent. Approximately 13.7 million single parents in the US today are raising some 21.8 million children (approximately 26% of children under 21). While there are many custodial dads out there, here’s what the “average” single mom entails:

• Approximately 84% of custodial parents are mothers
  
• She is divorced or separated (45%), never married (34.2%), widowed (1.7%) or now remarried (19%)
  
• She is employed: 79.5% of custodial single mothers are gainfully employed, with 49.8% working full time, year-round, and 29.7% working part-time or part-year


• She and her children don’t live in poverty (73%). A minority receive assistance (22% receive Medicaid, 23.5% receive food stamps, 12% receive some form of public housing or rent subsidy, 5% receive TANF)
  
• She is 40+ years old (39.1% of custodial single mothers)


• She’s raising one child (54% of custodial mothers) with 46% raising two or more children
  

As fascinating as some of these stats are, what we’re finding at Eve’s Daughters is there is no “average.” Certainly, there are commonalities, but each woman has a story as unique as her fingerprint.

I confess, years ago, that I struggled with my prior “picture” of a single mom. It wasn’t pretty, partly based on where and how I was raised. That picture worked for me…until I became one of them. Then it became personal, and it forced me, humbled, to edit that image. And that’s developed a far greater humility in me to not be so quick to judge, across the board—that I don’t know, can’t know, every person’s back story.

Now, with our organization, maybe that’s why we feel so strongly about developing relationships first and foremost, versus assuming a cookie-cutter approach. Because when we take the time, what we’re hearing goes far beyond average…often into the extraordinary.

Is there a single mom in your life that deserves a second look?

*United States. Census Department. Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support: 2007. By Timothy S. Grall. Census, 2009. 26 Feb. 2010

The Tiny Life

"The spiritual life is not a life of success; it is a life of faithfulness, and it’s not easy. God knew we would naturally be dazzled by big; that’s why Jesus told the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son…Jesus was trying to tell us something: The spiritual life is a tiny life, filled with little decisions, tiny steps toward God, tiny glimpses of His presence, little changes and small movings, tiny successes and imperceptible stirrings.”—Michael Yaconelli, Messy Spirituality

Happy birthday…to us. Eve’s Daughters received its official non-profit status a year ago, the day before Mother’s Day, setting a new land speed record in terms of 1023 approvals. And since that momentous occasion…there’ve been fits and starts, and sometimes just fits, usually thrown by me. There’s been lots of planning, and talking, and listening. There’ve been seemingly 1.7 million emails, and distress calls, complete with head-in-hands. And still, all told, it’s been kinda tiny work. We are still “wobblers”, not even toddlers yet, in a world that’s not always supportive of non-profits, regardless of need.

I smiled when I read Michael Yaconelli’s description above, that God knew we would be dazzled by big. Like the bumper sticker, “Distracted by shiny things,” I find myself thinking there must be something bigger to be had, bigger to be done, bigger just in general, and it makes me lose my focus sometimes.

But then I think of all the tiny decisions: For Cathy to have been listening to hear the name “Eve’s Daughters”, for me to know it was time to join her, for all the planning, for choosing the board members, for writing the background material, for starting the fundraising, for developing the monthly dinners, for every cup of coffee over listening to a woman’s story. Each was a tiny decision to move toward to the vision, closer to the hope, even when everything swirled around us that maybe the whole thing was a mirage, a mistake.

We see changes in the women we serve, seemingly imperceptible at first, and then gaining steam. I've come to learn that tiny steps eventually do add up. So when I’m tempted to think we’re not making a difference (or a difference that anyone could notice), I’ve got to remember to narrow my focus. For someone of my wiring, this doesn’t come naturally or gracefully. But I keep hoping there will come a time when I get the perspective I crave—that it was all supposed to be this way, a little breadcrumb trail to sustain us, living the tiny life in a big, big way.

Birthing a non-profit is not unlike our other births--joyful, messy, scary, overwhelming. But that something tiny that we helped usher into the world--who knows what it will grow into?

A letter to Tes

Cathy's Note: Tes Syzonenko, a fellow single mom, passed away on February 24, 2010 after a very short battle with cancer. She leaves behind her 18-year old son, family, co-workers, customers, friends...and me.

Dear Tes,

I haven't been ready to write...I have just been waiting...for what I'm not sure. But today I passed your son on the way to school and the tears came again. I miss you. In recent times, we didn't see each other much, but there was a time when we were a big part of each other's lives, and we were always in each other's prayers.

I can't help but think about you as Eve's Daughters begins to blossom. You would have loved the concept of moms supporting moms. Of creating a place for moms to belong, to socialize, to talk, to be accepted, to be loved. You would have been right there dishing up the soup, helping the little kids with crafts, and sharing your journey as a single mom.

But you aren't here. It happened so fast. I was so lucky to be able to share the last weeks with you, to watch your courage, to tell you what a great job you did raising your boy, and then to see you say goodbye to him.

"I won't see him graduate," was the first thing you said to me when the doctors told you it was terminal. When I saw your son today...I couldn't help but remember the words. High school graduation is around the corner.

Tes, I know you struggled at times with being a single mom...we all do...but you held on. You made difficult decisions when you had to, you fought the good fight daily, and you loved at all times. You would have never thought of yourself as an inspiration to others...but you were...and still are.

Eve's Daughters is a place where single moms can come to be encouraged, renewed and validated. You would have loved it. You would have been right there serving with a smile so engaging that people would forget their troubles for awhile.

I wish you were here. I'm not ready to say goodbye. So instead...thanks for teaching me so much about perseverance...so much about sacrifice...and so much about love. Thank you for showing me that it doesn't matter what our struggles...it is all worth it...we do it gratefully for our children.

I push on with Eve's Daughters knowing how important it is to moms like you...and to sons like ours. I love you Tes, thank you. - Cathy

What Does Your Saturday Look Like?

I had a great series of conversations recently with someone who’s been helping me walk through some disappointments. While this person is definitely pro-Karen (which is a fabulous help), he can’t walk the path for me. All he can do is listen, point me back to True North and help me on my journey.

The gist was such: Between a promise ending on Good Friday and a promise anew on Easter Sunday, one can have a long, lonely, questionable, faith-trying time on Saturday. That’s where I’m at right now, on a number of fronts. And you can’t always expect people to be willing to hang with you on a Saturday, if you know what I mean: Sometimes, there’s other stuff to do, and maybe your friends are living in Tuesday or Wednesday mode.

But if I rally a bit of faith, I know I can get quiet and pray. I can believe that Sunday is coming, if not immediately. I can remember that lonely Saturdays can be good for me, in a stretching kind of way, if I can accept them and not divert the grief into cleaner closets or more organized cabinets. If I can remember back to other Saturdays—and there’ve been plenty—that eventually gave way to something wobbly and new.

What’s your Saturday looking like? Are you waiting on a job? On a check? Is your kid sick? Do you need to forgive…or be forgiven? Are you worn down with resentment? Are you doubled-up with longing? Whatever it is…remember your other Saturdays. Know that others have traveled this path. Trust, even if it seems a longshot. Call someone who’s pro-You. Chocolate never hurts. Pray. Sunday will come.

A word or two from Elizabeth

Quite often I am completely blown away by my kids...usually by the maturity and the "know-how" they possess. My daughter posted this drawing and poem on my "DREAM BIG" bulletin board. I thought it might be a good thing to share...mind you this is my 15 year-old daughter writing...

When things go wrong as they sometimes will, when the road you're trudging seems all uphill. When the funds are low and the debts are high, and you want to smile, but you have to sigh. When care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must, but don't you quit. Life is queer with its twists and turns, as everyone of us sometimes learns. Many a failure turns about, when she might have won had she stuck it out. Don't give up though the pace seems slow, you may succeed with another blow. Success is failure turned inside out; the silver tint of the clouds of doubt. You never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems so far. So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit. It's when things seem worst that you must not quit. - Elizabeth

Today I hold on to my child's words...knowing that the wisdom she imparts today was partly gleaned from doing life together over the last 15 years. Just when I think I haven't done enough...they show that they get it. Thanks for the lesson Elizabeth, love Mom

Bye Bye Bob

I went searching for a bandage this morning and found Barbie. Scooby. Dora (ok, those are really old). And my old fave: Bob the Tomato from Veggie Tales. But I couldn't find my secret stash of plain, old beige band-aids and came to find out...

E has been using them. Secretly. Sez she's too grown up for Bob and Barbie after all.

We've had an abundance of maturing exercises lately, between family, friends, body changes and the like. 1 Cor 13:11 says we're expected, when we're children, to act like children...but eventually the goal is to mature, putting our childish ways behind us.

Does this go for moms, too? Because I have been struggling to let go of the especially sweet childish stuff--the innocence, the lack of attitude (!!), the long times of make believe when anything can happen. I am blown away by the lovely young woman she is becoming...while I still recall middle-of-the-night feedings with lullabies playing softly.

(Wasn't that just last week??)

How do you adjust to the changing seasons of being a mom?