Learn to Listen
Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>
Midnight phone calls stir a mother's heart. We all know what
it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the night.
This night was no different. Jerking up to the ringing summons,
I focused on the red, illuminated numbers of my clock.
Midnight. Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I
grabbed the receiver. "Hello?" My heart pounded, I gripped the
phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face
my side of the bed.
"Mama?" The voice answered. I could hardly hear the whisper
over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter.
When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clear
on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.
"Mama, I know it's late. But don't . . . don't say anything
until I finish. And before you ask, yes I've been drinking. I
nearly ran off the road a few miles back and . . ."
I drew in a sharp, shallow breath, released my husband and
pressed my hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind,
and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn't right.
"I got so scared. All I could think of was how it would hurt you
if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I want
. . . to come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've
been worried sick. I should have called you days ago but I was
afraid . . . afraid . . ."
Staying on the line, sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the re-
ceiver and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my daugh-
ter's face in my mind, and my fogged senses seemed to clear,
"I think ---"
"No! Please let me finish! Please!" she pleaded, not so much in
anger, but in desperation. I paused and tried to think what to say.
Before I could go on, she continued. "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I
shouldn't be drinking now, especially now, but I'm scared, Mama. So
scared!" The voice broke again, and I bit into my lip, feeling my own
eyes fill with moisture.
I looked up at my husband, who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"
I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the
room, returning seconds later with a portable phone held to his ear.
She must have hear the click in the line because she asked, "Are you
still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so alone."
I
clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm
here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.
"I should have told you, Mama. I know I should have told you. But,
when we talk, you just keep telling me what I should do. You read all
those pamphlets on how to talk about sex and all, but all you do is
talk.
You don't listen to me. You never let me tell you how I feel. It is as
if my feelings aren't important. Because you're my mother you think you
have all the answers. But sometimes I don't need answers. I just want
someone to listen."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-to
-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my night stand. "I'm listening,"
I whispered.
"You know, back there on the road after I got the car under control, I
started thinking about the baby and taking care of it. Then I saw this
phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching to me about how
people shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come
home."
"That's good honey," I said, relief filling my chest. My husband came
closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine.
"But you know, I think I can drive now."
"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened and I tightened the clasp
on my husbands hand. "Please, wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on
me until the taxi gets there."
"I just want to come home, Mama."
"I know. But do this for your Mama. Wait for the taxi, please."
Learning to listen: I listened to the silence . . . fearing. When
I didn't hear her answer, I bit into my lip and closed my eyes.
Somehow I had to stop her from driving.
"There's the taxi, now." Only when I heard someone in the background
asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing. "I'm coming
home, Mama." There was a click, and the phone went silent.
Moving from the bed, tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into
the hall and went to stand in my 16-year-old daughter's room. My
husband came from behind, wrapped his arms around me and rested his
chin on the top of my head. I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We
have to learn to listen," I said to him.
He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever
know she dialed the wrong number?" I looked at our sleeping daughter,
then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't such a wrong number."
"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled voice came from under
the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring
into the darkness. "We're practicing," I answered.
"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress,
but her eyes already closed in slumber.
"Listening," I whispered and brushed a hand over her cheek.
Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one so that when we finally meet the right person, we will know how to be grateful for that gift.
When the door of happiness closes, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which, has been opened for us.
The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.
It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.
Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they'll love you back! Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart but if it doesn't, be content it grew in yours. It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.
Don't go for looks; they can deceive. Don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one that makes your heart smile.
There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real!
Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.
May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy.
Always put yourself in others' shoes. If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the other person, too. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.
Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
I do not mail idea-central unsolicited. If you are receiving this newsletter from me it's because you have subscribed to this mailing list. If you receive this newsletter and are not a subscriber then someone, other than me, has forwarded it to you.
| Normal Subscribe: | idea-central-subscribe@welovegod.org |
| Normal Unsubscribe: | idea-central-unsubscribe@welovegod.org |
| Web Subscribe: | idea-central-allow-subscribe@welovegod.org |
| Web Unsubscribe: | idea-central-allow-unsubscribe@welovegod.org |
| Email Group Owner: | idea-central-owner@associate.com |