Imperfection

Unfortunately, I am a perfectionist. I hope to change that part of me this year. Or at the least to label myself a recovering perfectionist! No doubt there's a ton of books on the subject of striving for perfection only to encounter frustration and failure. Only One is perfect - God. And no matter how hard I try, I won't ever reach a perfect conclusion.

When I was a little girl, I believed my mother had many perfect qualities. She never showed anger or impatience. She never complained. If you knew my childhood home, to never complain in that environment must've taken an unbelievably strong will. But I needed to see her weaknesses. Ten years ago, as a new mother, I aimed for perfection and repeatedly failed and disappointed myself. I couldn't cook a meal with ease like my mother. I was frustrated and depressed. I bellyached often. In my mind, I'd never match her skills. I beat my self-esteem to a pulp.

My mother's mother - my Gram - also had admirable character traits. Gram's mother died when she was 13, so my grandmother took control of the household and took care of her brother and father. Gram was loving, outgoing, vivacious and extremely personable. She clearly never met a stranger. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with her. She fussed over all of the grandchildren - making scrumptious dinners, giving manicures, teaching card and board games, and giggling and laughing into the late night hours. These are memories I'll cherish forever.

But perhaps the greatest gift that my gram gave to me was her willingness to display her faults and shortcomings. Why do I view the negative as a positive? Because my grandmother wasn't perfect. She knew it and I knew it. I never felt as if I had to reach my grandmother's level in cooking or excel in meeting new people and developing new friendships effortlessly. If she encountered a conflict, she let us know. I truly appreciated her. I loved spending the weekends with her, as a child, as a teen, and as an adult.

There's something beautifully endearing about the truth. Yes, the truth can be difficult or painful, but my heart appreciates the closeness that truth brings. The walls crumble down and the emotions are real and raw. Imperfections and all.