Pearls

I have been pretty disappointed with myself today. I was really thinking I could hold it together better for Mother’s Day. No, I didn’t. I cried like five or six times today. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! Couldn’t afford to get you more than a card this year, but here, take this breakdown; sorry there’s not a bow!

For the second time in a row, I actually got something from the church service. One, they announced the pastor was leaving in the next couple weeks to become the district superintendent or something. You could feel the shock go through the congregation. They really depend on him. I don’t really know or have much affection for the man, but I know the church really does. Of course, I immediately went to, “Why does everybody have to leave?” and felt abandoned by Chad all over again. Not that I really needed that announcement to make that happen. That feeling seems to be growing by the day.

The lady who spoke told a ‘cute’ little story that kinda hit home for me. It was about this little five-year-old girl who saved up enough money to buy a string of $2 pearls from some junk shop. She loved, loved, loved, loved them. After awhile, her dad, after he read her a bedtime story, would ask her if she loved him. She would reply yes, of course. He would then ask her to give him her pearls to show him that she loved him. She always said no and tried to give her second favorite possession. Week after week this transpired. Until finally, one night, the dad came into the little girl’s bedroom. She was holding out her fist, tears rolling down her eyes, and dropped the cheap set of pearls in his hands, sobbing that she loved him. As she did, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a velvet box, opened it, and gave his daughter a priceless set of real pearls. He’d had them all the time. Life lesson: We have to surrender our ‘dime store treasures’ to God so that He can give us the real thing. Now, part of me feels like this is just cruel. Give the girl her pearls, damn it. Are you that insecure that you have to have her prove her love? On the other hand, I find it achingly beautiful and a little hopeful. Maybe what Chad and I had was dime store love, only in the sense that it wasn’t enough for him to want to stay. Maybe by surrendering, I can experience the real thing. In theory, this could be with someone else, or, hopefully, with Chad when he figures out whatever it is he is wanting to figure out, then he can return and we have the real thing that lasts…

This Wednesday is our last Top Model night together, it’s the season finale. I have such mixed emotions. I am looking forward to it so much. I get to see him! Dreading it so much. What will I look forward to when it’s done? When will I see him? Why will I see him? And, at the same time, I am hoping not having a set date will trigger him missing me, which, I know, hasn’t happened yet, so the absence of Top Model doesn’t hold much promise. Yet, I keep coming back to, “How could I have been unbelievably happy and it not be real? He has to come back!” Of course, the flip side is, “If I was so happy, and he so wasn’t, then it couldn’t be real, he’s glad he’s not with me, and he is not going to choose to come back.”

Really?