Pride Rears It’s Ugly Head

(To read my story click here, here and here)

My co-worker, MA, asked my why The Man Beast and I didn’t ask for help. To be honest, I stared blankly at her for a few beats.

Did it occur to us for ask for help? No.

But truthfully, looking back, I think pride kept us from asking for help. Were there people we could have called to help us? Chances are, yes. My family is not rich by any means, but I’m pretty sure that had they known exactly what we were going through exactly when we were going through it, they would have moved heaven and earth in an effort to help.

But it’s only now, seven years later, that I realize that help did come. Yes, we had a few people come in our path to help us indirectly, but I think it was my MIL who moved in swiftly, did what she had to do, and saved our pride all in one fell swoop. (It’s safe to say that by this time, our self-esteem and pride were pretty much in the gutter. What she did for us was kick awesome).

You see, my family is a bit different from others. My married-to-family, that is (meaning: The Man Beast’s people – his people by chance, my people by choice). They are loyal to the end. They are real and they make no apologies for it. They are wonderful, and I love them.

But my MIL (and it took me a few years to really ‘get her’) is not the openly touchy feely person. If you need help, she’ll help you…but it won’t be until after you receive her help and think on it that it dawns on you that she’s helped.

And it’s this understanding that’s finally dawning on me – seven years later (I’m a little slow). She came down there and saw her boy was in trouble. So what does she do? She suggests we move up to GA, closer to her. She tells us that things are going pretty good up there and I think she might have thrown in there that she missed us – but maybe not because that’s not her way.

We moved up here on her birthday that February. I was already preggers with Baby Gurl (we told her once we got up here one afternoon at a skating rink. Funny thing: she wasn’t surprised. She said she had a feeling. She had a feeling not too long ago. She thought it was me. Imagine her surprise when it was Monster Mama!)

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been here eight years. Eight years! The Man Beast and I celebrate twelve years together this month. That means that we’ve spent more than half of our married life here in GA. There have been some rough times, sure. But we’ve stuck by one another.

After all, The Man Beast’s people don’t give up.

Until next time…

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3 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Sparky ♥ ∞ on March 14, 2009 at 12:21 am

    Geosh … I thought I was the only one that suffered from that nasty Pride thang. Boy, do I hate to ask for help. It’s like someone sticking bamboo sticks up my fingernails. Geez. [lol]

    But we’ve all been there, done that (had to ask for help).

    Well, I for one am so glad y’all live here. I’m glad your MIL had the initiative and kindess to help. And it’s really nice to know you’re living in a ‘safe’ place to raise the kids. Things are scary ‘out there’, you know. [shudder] ♥ ∞

    Reply

  2. Posted by Kay on March 14, 2009 at 3:47 am

    We are on the other end… the people who want to help, are begging to help, telling the kiddos to "COME HOME" to Neb. So far they are resisting, even as we tell them all the ways we could and would help.

    The other family is unwilling, unable to help like we could, yet clings to her (ddil's) heart and will not let go.

    Despite her family being there, it's not a "safe" place to be. Not physically, emotionally, spiritually, but we can't make them come back. I just hope & pray it doesn't take a tragedy to make them see this is best.

    Thanks for the encouragement… it does work when "his" mama "butts in." ;o)

    Reply

  3. Posted by Iva on March 14, 2009 at 12:10 pm

    Sparky, oh how I love GA! If you had told me 20 years ago that this is where God would plant me, I would have laughed in your face. This Yankee? In GA? Uh, no.

    Oh, yes! I love my little community. It has certainly grown on me. I wonder if my children will develop accents?

    Kay, hopefully, they’ll get a clue and come home…or accept help. Are these young people? Because I can speak from experience when I say that young people are hard headed and stupid.

    I hope I raise my kids to escape my fate…but someone, I don’t think so. Oh, God-willing, they’ll escape the horrors of what I went through, but the let’s-invent-the-wheel-because-mom-and-dad-don’t-know-what-they’re-talking-about phenomenon will continue.

    Reply

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