Dating {Part III...I guess}

You know what I don't like doing? Flossing.  

I dislike it so much that I may or may not only floss two weeks out of the year.

Naturally, if I floss the week before I go to the dentist, my hygienist won't realize that I don't floss the other 50 weeks out of the year. I work with people who stash those little flossing sticks in the their desk drawer and after lunch they get to picking. Kudos to them but it is just not my jam. Why? I have no idea but it's not.

That has nothing to do with this blog post other then to talk about my recent trip to the dentist.  But, aren't you glad to know such an interesting tidbit about me? 

No? Then just erase that from your memory.

Ok, back to the dentist. 

I have been going to the same dentist for the last five years. Same dentist with the same hygienist. So recently when I checked in, I was perplexed when the receptionist explained that my hygienist is no longer with the office and that I would be getting my pearly whites cleaned by someone else. 

It is always rather odd when they ask questions that require more than just a simple yes or no with your mouth wide open and that blessed floss being strung through your teeth. Nonetheless, the new hygienist was asking the basic 'get to know you' questions. 

Job. Kids. Marriage status. Oh how I love these questions. 

She appeared to be around my age and I was pretty proud of her for asking such bold follow-up questions after my surprising answers to her basic questions. When I answered that I was divorced, she was bold enough to ask why. Most shy away after my answers catch them off guard so when she was brave enough to dig deeper, I shared. Knowing that I was there for my teeth and not therapy, I spared her all the details but I gave her an honest rendition of how my past two years unfolded. And after I did, I thanked her for being bold enough to ask. I don't know why it made such an impact but it did. I just really appreciate honest and real conversations and that we had (or I could have just been stalling and hoping she would skip a few sections needing plaque scrapping).

The conversation continued and she asked about my dating life.

I explained how I went on one blind date and one second date with a really nice guy and then promptly retired from blind dates. Perhaps I will have to come out of retirement at some point but this girl is still holding out for my future spouse to show up on my doorstep already knowing my story. Friends, I believe in miracles more than the Mighty Ducks did. It is scary to sit across the table from a complete stranger. I mean really scary because the truth is it leaves me vulnerable to how they embrace my story. So tap your hockey stick against the ice, together let us form the 'v', and in unison quack...quack...quack.

I am at peace with where my life is at the present. I have pulled my floundering fins from the mound of brokenness that once felt all consuming. I feel refreshed, rejuvenated, and oh so redeemed. Perfect, completely whole, freed from all difficult days? Certainly not. And I don't think I ever will be. Because even when I am 80, there will still be triggers. Moments when I vividly remember kissing the lips of my lifeless child one last time. There will be moments when that familiar drop in my stomach hits as I am reminded of a fond memory that is no more. Those triggers will come next week, next year, and all the years to come. Forever. 

But those pings are a beautiful result of a love so deep. And I embrace them as a reminder that I am a momma who did the best she knew for her child and as reminder of the innocence of a sixteen year old dreamer who had yet to fathom the complexity of life.

When there were no spaces left to floss, the hygienist whom I had met a mere 52 minutes before asked if I would reconsider my retirement from blind dates because she has a brother. Oh Lord.  If not now, she assured me she was going to ask again when I come back in six months.

I smiled as I walked out of the office at the way my life has played out. 

This isn't how it was supposed to be. This isn't how I envisioned it. 

But this is me. This is my story. 

Once so deeply broken yet being so faithfully mended.

Tis' great redemption that leaves me surprisingly excited to see how life unfolds from here. 

quack...quack...quack