I was flying cross-country between my parent’s homes in Ohio and California. Again. They had been divorced about a couple years at this point, and it seemed nobody wanted me to live with them. I would spend a few months with my Dad, and start to get some stability in my life.
Then it was time to visit my Mom, only she would buy a one-way ticket (I thought it was because my Dad didn’t want me anymore). A few months later, I would fly from California back to Ohio to ‘visit’ my Dad, again on a one-way flight.
The custodial parent switch happened five times, and with each visit I grew more convinced I was unlovable.
As my plane rolled to a stop at Los Angeles International Airport, my stomach began to roll in fear. Questions bound in fear boiled up in my adolescent mind:
Will my Mom even want to see me this time? When will I be flown back to my Dad’s, so he can suffer through living with me for a while? Since neither wants me, why don’t they just put me up for adoption? I wonder if being a ward of the state is better than this shuffling. Which state would I be a ward of, Ohio or California?
I walked down the ramp, scanning the passenger area for my Mom. Nowhere to be found.
“She SERIOUSLY forgot to even pick me up?”
I was working myself up into a real lather of anger as I walked past the security gate, and then I saw him.
My Uncle Andy, dressed in a full suit and driving cap, holding up a sign that read: Chris Morris.
Anger melted away as a smile creeped over my face and I ran to him. He returned the grin and swung me around, giving me a fierce bear hug.
“Chris, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Let’s go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
After we picked up my luggage, my Uncle Andy started dancing as we walked toward the pick-up area. I don’t ever remember seeing him so happy before. I followed him down the sidewalk, and he stopped at a limousine.
“Mr. Morris, your limousine…” and he opened the back door with flourish. I was stunned, and just stood there beaming and confused. “Mr. Morris, your limousine,” Uncle Andy repeated, and pointed to the open door.
I climbed in, and my Mom was sitting there. I will never forget what she said to me next:
Chris, if it was up to me I would drive you around in a limousine every single day for the rest of your life. I love you, and you are the best thing in my life. Now sit down and grab a soda. We have catching up to do.
In that singular moment, I understood the deep love my Mom had for me. I have never felt so special, so loved, so honored in my life. My insecurities about being unwanted and shipped back to my Dad melted as I received the message my Mom sent that day.
When hope sags in my life, I remember the limo and my love my Mom has for me—and I know I am loved and worthwhile. This is what unconditional love does for us all.
What a great story that will stick with you forever. Thanks for sharing!
Good one Chris! In my shallow mind, I thought it was going to be a prom story when I saw the limo. But this was much better.
I am better than prom? High praise 🙂
Thanks for the kind words, Matt
I knew that my husband loved me forever and ever when he “knocked on wood” – As an actor, I am very superstitious and as a non-actor he is very much not. The act of him blending a little into my world helped me to see how much he loves me. I should add that things happen in our marriage daily that echo this, but that first act made me know it. Thanks for sharing your fears and this great story, Chris!
What a moment! I can totally picture it, thanks for sharing. When we moved here I was deeply lonely, wondering what everyone in my “old” life was doing. After a two year period of struggling to adjust, 4 friends surprised me and came to my house, placed strategically in different rooms. They’d purchased groceries, planned a whole weekend. Loved me
Enjoyed the post Chris. Thank you for sharing your life with us on your blog. I’m so greatful that love can be a tangible thing shown to us. When others show love for us in deeds and words then they are felt fully. Once again thanks so much for sharing. Your writing offers hope amongst real pain and anguish.
Loved it Chris. We were trying to figure out how old you were in this story. I loved how you felt limo-worthy. Great illustration of God’s love.
I felt loved when my uncle wanted to have me and my siblings over for New Years Eve and Day. My dad wouldn’t let me go because he wanted me to work at the Snack Shop. So my uncle asked if he could make an extra trip to come and get me. My dad agreed and my uncle made the trip. We didn’t expect a flat tire on the expressway in 10 degree weather, but that’s what we got. And we got back to his house right before midnight. I felt loved. Worth a second trip.
Beautiful generous act on your mother’s part. I totally love this story. Your mother inspires and reminds me as a mother to continue to let my children know in special ways they’re important to me.
My missionary parents raised me in Africa. I went away to boarding school for three months and then home for a month. Every time we came home, mom would fix homemade cinnamon rolls and donuts. When we went to school again, she’d ship us cookies and treats. This was a big deal back then because none of that was available. She’d cry when we had to go but regular letters from her reassured me that she loved me.
Great story Chris! It is so hard for kids. I had to go thru a divorce when my son was only 8. I was thinking of him when reading this. He is 18 now. Thanks for sharing! Brenda
i want every day to be limo day.
Me too Tim. I still consider taking my mom up on this offer every once in a while. Not only because I would rock a limo, but because I would be reminded of her love for me every day.
Brenda,
Thanks for the encouragement. It was really hard, even though the divorce was the right thing to do for my parents. My mom knew how to outlove my fear though. Still does too.
Cinnamon rolls, donuts, cookies, letters and love. Out of such things are great parents made, Sharon.
This was the summer before my sixth grade year, making me eleven. There is a definite connection with the way God loves us no matter what. For me, this story is one of the best illustrations of a person demonstrating the perfect love of God.
Your story is so beautiful Anne. You are worth a second trip
You have some awesome friends Christa!
I just believe so fully in the power of story, Troy. I guess I don’t know another way to write
You are so right, Jennifer. Whenever someone enters into our own life and activities when we know they don’t intrinsically value it themselves, it communicate such depth of love and care.
Thank you Chris, those words mean a lot to me.
Just be you and continue to write as you do.
Man! This great! I wish every day were limo day! I remember similar flights, but we (my brother and I lived with my mom) only visited dad twice a year. We were lucky if he came to visit us. Thing is, there was never any relationship there–conversations have never done much more than scratch the surface.
As to when I knew I was loved:
http://randomlychad.com/2012/08/a-purpose-in-the-pain.html
I spent many years feeling that same lack of relationship with my father. On some level, I still feel that way. This only emphasizes the limo even more in my mind
separation or divorced put negative effective on the mental capabilities of kids so such kind of decision must not be taken from parent’s end which can ruin the life of their kids.
So happy to read this Chris. We ARE precious. That’s why the blood was spilled.