I'm Not Crying

My peeps, my posse, my tribe, my village, my Moms Group:

Back Row: Teacher Linda, Julie, Shawna in pink, Wendy in white, Allison, Sarah Moen, Emily, Ruthann, Anne, Mari in the very back (she’s really that tall!), Jolene next to Teacher Marti in the stripes and Mary.

Front Row: Aly, Me, Reena, Sara Migliori and Michelle

Not in the picture: Gretchen and Shannon

The other day I was caught completely off guard when the Moms Group amazed me with a surprise party. Coincidentally, the surprise party was on the same day as my hub’s birthday (and Cinco de Mayo) so any attention for me was definitely not on my radar. My Moms Group consists of moms that I met when my daughter was eight months old (now 14.5 years old), moms that I met when my son was born (2008) and moms that I met in between then and now middle school years. Meeting up for parent educating classes for fourteen years or just a year, we have history together. Moms who learn together, stay together.

Prior to the party, I had arranged for the Moms Group to give a gift to our parent educator and a gift to the mom who coordinates all the logistics for our classes. I wanted to be on time for our group’s last class so I rushed to get the gifts set up and began circulating the cards for signatures so that we could give them to these two lovely ladies. When I learned that plans had changed - surprise, class wasn’t going to be a class after all - it was going to be a party for me - it took me FOREVER to piece everything together. I’m blaming my lack of understanding on me suffering from “post positive-bucket-filling stress”. The opposite of post-traumatic stress.

We were low on time and I knew that money leis are always a crowd-pleaser. Our parent educator Linda has lead us in some very much needed discussions about parenthood. We are all grateful for her. So I put this pinch together and arrived on time to give it to Linda before we started class. But there was no class that day.

The party was plenty enough to bring me so much joy. I thought about the (wo)manpower to coordinate this party, the secrecy, the cleverness to use a date that was already set on the moms’ calendars - everything for the party was a big thoughtful pinch in itself! But it continues…

We all sat in a circle (not kumbaya style; we were on a huge couch and chairs) and these caring friends of mine, one by one, said the most wonderful things to me. Like a eulogy, only I am alive to hear it. Some women wrote their thoughts down - which made me think, how long did they have this planned if they had time to write something down? Many friends spoke from their heart. There were tears and tissues. My tears filled my eyes but as I said, I was still trying to figure out everything about this gathering. How did they pull this off? How did they collect money for the gift, food, drinks? How did they invite our former parent educator? How did they know that I would be totally surprised? What if I had decided that I had too much going on that day to come to class? Lol. In fourteen years I think I missed a total of four classes due to spring break or sickness. Most of all, I was soaking in every minute of this feeling because if I felt this good, I wanted to copy this idea and make others feel the same way too!

Although some cried, I knew if I cried, it would be about me. Which of course was the entire point because the party was for me, but what I’m trying to say is, that I was in awe of these women coming together to share themselves with me and I didn’t want it to be about me. Instead, I wanted to listen closely to all of these wonderful stories and warm thoughts. I was so happy to see how capable my friends were at lifting me up by sharing their thoughts. At that very moment, they were brave enough to tell me that I mattered. They were caring enough to remind me that I made a difference. They were open enough to accept me as I am and actually celebrate me for being different. These were the things that went thru my head as I listened intently for almost 2 hours of “Barb Paton”. It was the most delightful thing to see and hear; these women were doing this for me. And even though I’ve known them for years, I was never more certain than in that moment, that they would lift up every single person in that room with their words and support. I love that! It brought me joy even though I know there was sadness.

Sara Migs (Migliori) - she is the hostess with the mostest. She brought us all together for “class”. Fruit, Prosecco and Nothing Bundt Cakes. Yum! So fun!

Here’s my gal, Allison. I only write blog entries and posts about her ALWAYS. I think if she was the last to share at my party, for sure I wouldn’t have been able to hold it in. But she shared first, when I was still in a state of shock. I didn’t know what was happening. It will hit me in a week and out of nowhere, I will cry.

This bracelet has navy gemstones that represent the Broncos and it’s sparkly. The moms topped off the entire party with this gift and it makes everyone smile; the kind of smile when all of our teeth show. Every time I look at this bracelet, it will remind me of the strength, love and honesty that I felt at that very moment. I even heard someone say, “We read your blog so we know that we couldn’t give you a big gift to pack for the move. We thought this would be small enough to take with you.” That melted my heart; they read my blog!! Now that’s a thoughtful pinch in itself too! I will always think, “How thoughtful of them!” when I wear this bracelet.

I had to leave quickly from my Moms Group party because we were having a taco truck party for my hub and the neighborhood. As I drove home and the entire time that I rushed to make the traditional seven-layer dip before running off to Target for red solo cups and ice, I kept wondering if the entire experience was for real. Did it happen or did I dream it? I kept wondering how to capture that feeling in a bottle. I wanted to somehow scream from the roof tops that we should all be privy to hear nice things about ourselves, without having to die to hear it in a eulogy.

The saying, “I’m not crying, you’re crying,” is a spoof for when someone doesn’t want to admit that they are crying in front of others. After the party, one of the moms who is very articulate, came over to me and assured me, “We’re the group who is there for you to let it out and it’s ok to cry.” She noticed that I had tears in my eyes but couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t let the tears fall. At the time, I couldn’t put into words that what I was feeling was such a joyful, grateful, and peaceful feeling. To hear all these nice things about me from women whom I admire, lean on and care about was surreal. I was experiencing an out of body experience. It turns out, it was really happening. If someone could sell that exact feeling, they’d be rich. The feeling I felt was magic. It was the prefect balance of joy and sadness; right down the middle. In the end, I didn’t say good bye to anyone. Instead, I said, “See you later.” As I drive out of MN there will tears; the kind of non-stop tears that causes one to become dehydrated from loss of water. I will definitely be crying then.

Pinches,

Barb