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My Precious Parental Units
by Camerin Courtney
October 15, 2003
Last Thursday I was greeted by a rare and welcomed visitor as I absent-mindedly checked my mailbox at the end of a long, brain-draining day: a hand-written card. No "Resident" typed above my address, no "pre-approved" promises trumpeted across the envelope.
Instead it was simply a stiff, square envelope with the familiar precise print bringing a smile of recognition. I knew immediately it was from one of my favorite people. Wanting to savor such a rare treat, I waited until I was all the way into my third-story apartment and perched upon my couch to read it.
The sender had written simply because the card made her think of me, and to let me know she's proud of me, just as I am. I placed the card in a spot of prominence on my dining-room table. Then I stopped oh-so-briefly to thank God for such a wonderful, thoughtful mom.
Not long after, a phone chat with my dad brought similar feelings of comfort and appreciation. I'd just successfully spoken at a conference for singles, and I was all abuzz driving home at the end of the day with the risk-taking adventure behind me.
I wanted to tell someone all about the day I'd just had, to recount all the high and low points in true female fashion, but the only one at home to greet me was my pet parakeet, Mr. Right, and I sometimes get the sneaking suspicion he's bored with me. I knew I could share with God, but he already knew everything I wanted to tell—after all, he'd been there.
I was just about to give into a Singleness Stinks Moment, when a solution brought a smile to my face. A few moments later my dad answered the phone and immediately asked how the event had gone. Warmed that he'd remembered my adventure, I told him all about the day, while he relayed the high points to my already horizontal and not-quite-yet-asleep mom. He mmm-hmmed in all the right places and expressed his pleasure that the day had gone well, and I hung up 30 minutes later content and affirmed, Singleness Stinks Moment potential a distant memory.
Recently I've come to realize that one of the biggest and most surprising blessings of my single journey has been my friendship with my mom and dad.
Now, mind you, my mostly long-distance relationship with my parental units hasn't always been harmonious. There were years when I bristled at their attempts to help settle me in my faraway apartments. To newly adult me these kind efforts felt like threats to my independence, a lack of trust in my ability to make it on my own. Thankfully, I've mostly outgrown this early twentysomething need to Prove Myself, a fact alone that has eased our relationship considerably.
There was a time when both my sister and I were in our late twenties and unmarried when I suspected they questioned what they'd done wrong. When they wanted us to be married off and "taken care of" by strapping sons-in-law. When they yearned for grandchildren to spoil and wow with their growing number of Disney videos (which they began collecting a few years ago for "someday"). When my mom would drop hints about a Christian online dating service she'd heard about on the radio.
But I've learned to cut them some slack. These fine folks of mine married in college, and thus were never truly single. In fact, they belong to an entire generation that, unlike mine, married young and followed a very prescribed journey of life. That it's taken them a while to understand and accept my single, never-married, thirtysomething lot in life is understandable when you consider the bigger picture of new cultural demographic shifts.
They've learned to cut me some slack as they've watched many of their friends' kids get married, then divorced and as they've realized I'm really not purposefully eschewing the dating scene or doing anything intentional to sabotage any future nuptials.
Thankfully, we've pushed through misunderstandings, misconceptions, and mistakes and, enlightened by many honest heart-to-hearts and years of maturity, have formed relationships that are mostly marked by love, understanding, and genuine friendship. Somehow we finally realized we all want the same thing, a right relationship for me in God's time. In fact, realizing we're all on the same team has helped us lob our occasional frustration at the status quo not at each other, but outward at the sometimes difficult to understand timing of my life.
The more years that go by and the more friends that move in and out of my geographic circle of friends, the more I appreciate the permanence of family, the presence of people who've known me so well for so long and still, inexplicably, love me unconditionally.
And I love that when I go home it's just the three of us (except for when my nearby sister and brother-in-law join us for extended-family fun). But by our threesome selves, my parents and I now have a blast seeing indie flicks, eating at gourmet delis, and hanging out at used bookstores. I know some of our trio dynamic will need to shift when and if I add a fourth (or fifth or sixth) person to the mix, so for now I savor the good gig we've got.
In fact, in the spirit of such savoring I suggested the three of us go on vacation together to Washington, D.C. next spring. I spent a summer there in college and I know they'd love the rich history and architecture. They're excited by the prospect of this adventure (I'm still hoping they'll catch my travel bug), and I can't wait to introduce them to a city I know they'll love.
Wandering amidst the monuments and museums, we'll probably share more honest conversations about our respective points-of-view, all the while savoring the selfish closeness we can share here and now. And somewhere in front of a marble rendering of Jefferson or Lincoln I'll pause a moment to thank God for these two precious, treasured blessings of my single journey.
Camerin welcomes your feedback and brainstorms at: SinglesNewsletter@ChristianityToday.com
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