A Couch to Cry On

Most days I am fine... other days, like today, I get overcome with sadness and I cry like a baby.

I have been shopping for new livingroom furniture for a couple of weeks now. It is hard enough for me to decide on a menu item when I go out to eat, so you can imagine the challenge I have been experiencing with looking for livingroom furniture. For my entire life I have been making decisions based on two things (1.) if I like it AND (2.) if my mom approves. It may sound funny since I am a grown 24 year old ( ok, ok, I am 30!) but her opinion has always mattered. It represents the "ok" to go along with the process of whatever I am about to do. I always have my decision 99% of the way decided when I check with her but for some reason her 1% represents so much more than I could ever put into words.

Today when I finally decided on the livingroom furniture that I wanted I had one more thing to do... get in contact with Mom in South Dakota and make sure she thought it sounded like a good choice. I called her and called her and called her but she didn't answer. This went on for hours. At one point I sat on a piece of furniture in one of the stores and sobbed. I didn't sob because I was mad at her for ignoring her phone. I sobbed because that is the reality of what my life will be like someday when she is gone. She has always been my "go to" person and I've never needed a back-up plan.

Once mom got into an area where she had good service she called me back like she always does. Just seeing "MOM" show up on my cell phone made my sobbing start up all over again ( I really feel sorry for the salesman Larry who probably thought I was a mental case!). As usual Mom asked me lots of questions about my furniture choices and how I planned to decorate and then gave me her stamp of approval.

For the next hour or two Mom and I talked on the phone and cried together. We had one of our "Life is so un-fair" moments that we don't have very often. Dad reminded us that it ok to have those moments from time to time.

More than anything else I wanted Mom to know how much I value her opinions and how complete I feel when I get her approval.

I love you more than I love my new livingroom furniture,

Angie