It's All Fine, Or Not...

 My neighbor had a tree taken down last week. The trucks blocked the road for about two hours. While mildly inconvenient, I parked in his driveway and walked the way back to my house. As it happened, the tree guys left a perfectly round 6" by 24" piece of trunk that was perfect for photographing the glass from Youngest's smoke shop collection in the basement. The neighbor of course, said I could have it. 

I went over to pick it up, dolly in hands, and he met me out at the wood pile. Yup, a lot's going on at the house this summer. he says. Alot indeed, I laughed. In fact, a lot has happened for my neighbor.  In two years, he went from a single guy with a dog, to 2 dogs, 1 cat, father to an infant girl, and a weird custody situation of said infant's mother's 4-year-old daughter as well because she is now unfit to care for either of them. In addition, he was injured at work, and while the case is settled, he has to find work within a year, difficult to do with a permanent injury. And yet, when I ask him how he's holding up, he smiles and says everything's fine.

I assure you he's not fine.

I was a single mom for years. I managed, but I was not fine. People don't actually want the truth when they ask, no one wants to hear that you're stuck in the weeds and can't even remember the last time you showered, or that the kids are eating cereal all day, every day. 

I struggled as a single Mom, my ex being little to no help. His visits, while only 2 times a month for three hours, were with one son at a time, so my only full break from parenthood was while I was working. I was tired all the time. As the kids got older, they went to friend's houses, but given Youngest's propensity to flip on a dime, it wasn't an often occurrence. Add to this that his behavioral challenges reinforced the silent and not so silent judgement from other parents.  As if, because their homes had two parents in them, it was somehow better than ours. That somehow, I was the reason he was difficult.  

Around second grade Youngest made friends with a boy in his class. Hesitant, I dropped him to play for an hour. Our town is pretty big, this house is about 25 minutes away from ours, so after I dropped him off I did some shopping at the grocery store nearby, and promptly retuned to get him. I remember going to pick him up, and the Mom stood blocking the doorway. She boldly looked at me and said, Now, I'll let you in, but you have to promise not to judge me by what my house looks like. And then she laughed the most infectious laugh I've ever heard, even today, it still makes me smile. 

It was the realest thing I'd ever heard.

She has no idea how much I love her for that. In that instant, she had given me permission to not be fine. There she was, a fully capable mom of two, happily married in her 3-bedroom 2 bath house, making no apologies. At that moment I realized that no one is fine no matter how pretty the hydrangeas look in the front yard. While Youngest and her son went in different directions over the years, our friendship, while distant, remains a constant.

She is, and will always be, one of the few realest people I have in my life. She hates when I tell that story, it embarrasses her I guess, but then she laughs and laughs. I continue to tell it because it's an important one, we don't always have to be fine.

So to my neighbor, I see you. I hear the chaos of dog's and kids as I go by, you don't need to hide it. I don't care if your house is a disaster when I stop by, or if you haven't showered in days. I don't care if I come for tea and all you have is bottled water. I'm tired of the fake happy posts, and unobtainable online presence, the assumption that your couch isn't covered in dog hair like mine or that you also don't have laundry in the dryer to be folded or dishes in the sink. 

It's time to be real.

It's not always fine.