Mom's story, where it all began.

It was 1973, or thereabouts when my mom loaded us all into the car and headed out for a day of visiting. I was the oldest of three-- we were all 22 months apart. I was 7 years old, my brother (the middle boy), 5, and my baby sister, 4. It was a warm summer day. My dad had recently purchased the big brown Oldsmobile second hand so my mom had something safe to drive. As usual, Dad didn’t come with us. It was a Saturday and he owned his own construction business at the time. Trying to keep it afloat, required his full attention. My mom was kind and sweet, but she set the ground rules with us kids of how the day was going to unfold. We had four stops to make at 3 different parties. For sure, there was a graduation party thrown in there, and a baby shower too. 

Mom had a really hard time saying no to an invitation. She always said that if you were asked, it was an honor and we didn’t want to disappoint. 

So we pulled up to the first house, way too early for the party - because, remember, we had 2 other stops to make before the day was out. 

The hostess was surprised to see us. She wasn't nearly ready for guests to arrive. Still getting ready herself, doing the last minute touches, her mouth dropped open and she all but gasped. Wiping her hands on her apron, feeling awkward because she was still in her housecoat. She of course welcomed us in. Mom handed her the ambrosia she promised she would bring.

Even at a young age, I could sense the uncomfortableness. Yet, she was gracious and made like she was thrilled we’d made it despite the overcommitted day we had. We stayed for a little bit, just until the other guests arrived and we had to leave, because, remember, there were 2 more stops. Mom said her apologies and loaded us back up into that brown Oldsmobile. 

Stop two, we pulled up to the house, at the perfect time. We kids ran out of the car, settled in, and played with the other kids. Mom went into the house to say hello and bring in the potato salad [you never went empty handed]. And then, just as the dessert was being served, it was time to go again. Stop three.

It was nightfall when we arrived. The streetlamps had come on. They illuminated the empty street. No cars remained. The party was pretty much over because it had started over 4 hours ago. But we were there and that’s all that mattered. Because mom didn’t like to disappoint. Walking up the driveway with a heavy watermelon in her hands we were greeted.

The 3 of us wanted a dessert that we were promised from the other house, but when we arrived everything was cleaned up and put away. Mom asked the hostess and she said, “Sure no problem,” with a tired look and pulled out a collapsed jello-mold anyway. There was no longer any fruit.

Three parties in one day. What’s the cause for the celebration? Yes, we showed up at each party, but would it have been better to choose one party (the first one invited to) and had been fully present then spreading ourselves thin. Was anyone truly happy? 

Perhaps, this story resonates with you and brings you back to a time where it all started? 

This was not unusual for us to be in many different locations - especially during the holidays. But for some reason, I remember this day vividly. It left a mark on me in that it explains why, as an adult, I’ve had a hard time setting boundaries around time or relationships. (BTW, Mom would be devastated if she knew she’d impacted me this way.) 

Not until the past 10 years have I been getting better at setting boundaries of my time and tasks. Do you feel that maybe it is too late because this is how you always have been?

I am here to tell you I am in the middle of my life and it feels absolutely wonderful. 

What would you say if I had a tool a system that will allow you to find your path? Would you let me share it with you?

I look forward to sharing with you Take Back MY Life.

Pam xx

Pam Drzewiecki, Productivity and Leadership Coach