peanut butter jelly time

In college I once wrote a paper titled "The Marriage of Peanut Butter and Jelly." It was about my parents. My mom is jelly, pure sweetness simmered on a kitchen stove, full of sugary homemade comfort. Dad is peanut butter, straight nutty, smoothly skilled at many things, full of variety with that unexpected crunch thrown in. I love them each on their own, both so different, so unique, bringing their distinct flavor to the world, but it is the combination of the two that is remarkable. 

Mother's and Father's Day, along with both of my parents birthdays and their anniversary, fall within weeks of each other. May and June create a sandwich of celebration in our family.

On big days for dad- we highlight his joyful energy, sense of adventure, the way he has this delightful amusement and engagement with the world around him. I remember while still in the hospital after a major abdominal surgery, dad came up to stay while mom took a break and went home. We somehow stumbled on a Will Ferrell Saturday Night Live marathon, and I found myself in tears clutching a pillow as he did an impression of Ferrell doing an impression of Alex Trebek. It was equal parts sheer delight and stabbing pain, worth every stretched stitch. A day with dad can start out one way, and quickly take an unexpected turn. A movie date in 1992 to see Chuck Norris in Sidekicks ended us up at the Taekwando facility, signing dad up for weekly classes. Basic, run of the mill errands have somehow transformed into us planting a garden, test driving a Harley Davidson, spontaneously painting the kitchen, digging a pond in the back yard (killed the telephone line but we did find an old spoon), and other fantastical whirlwinds of adventure. He writes and speaks in story, telling details and weaving creativity into every word. I have saved all of the cards, little notes, and letters he has penned. In each he pours another layer of strong foundation for me to build from and to know that no matter who the world thinks I am, my papa simply adores me. He works as hard as he plays, and it is a side of him I still get surprised by when I get a glimpse. I am usually on the receiving end of his playfulness and wit, but watching him lead organizations and create a culture of respect and integrity within his department reminds me that there are so many levels still there for discovery. His generosity to others ranges from randomly purchasing the meal behind him, speaking words of encouragement to bring life, giving of himself until he is bone-tired, and beyond. I love every shape and variety he takes. 

When we focus in on mom- it is her desire to nurture, her abundance of grace, the ability to welcome people in and make any place feel like home. Mom's compassion is otherworldly. There are so many spaces in my life where fear and anxiety about this failing body had begun to wrap around me tightly, and in her I always find my unraveling. I let those things slowly fall off, I share, I speak my heart and mind, and I have never failed to find anything but a healing balm of love in return. Her life is poured out, every day she finds ways that she can give of herself and her time. She sees people in a way that most fail to do, she is unafraid of those places of need and hurt in others. I have seen her step straight into the deep end to pull someone up and perform some kind of spirit soul body CPR that infuses hope back into the lungs. She is always growing and re-setting, reminding her heart not to let offense or bitterness take root. She is a giver of the benefit of the doubt, which is something so rare these days most have a hard time believing it when they see it in action. When sharp words or selfishness get thrown at Mom, she is able to find her way past the hurt, and remind herself of the goodness and truth she sees in that person. Most of my failures in life have been handled in her care, I feel a safety to bring the worst parts of me to her, and in doing so, get a fresh perspective on who she knows me to truly be. Her cooking is like her heart, she makes big generous meals and lets no one go hungry, the meals are planned where each person finds something they want or need, and just when you think you have been spoiled beyond belief, she packs up whats left in a to-go box to see you through tomorrow as well. She loves the noise that comes with a full home, and quietly finds a chair to sit in with a baby in her arms to rock as she takes it all in. Even without the spotlight on her, she shines so brightly. 

I believe what my parents both did (and still do) so beautifully is to love us as they are, from where they are. Loving us as they are means they love us each with a unique style, meeting different needs by simply being different people. I am certain there are moments when Jelly looked across the table at Peanut Butter and thought "well I bet it is just great in this moment being the NUTTY one," or when Peanut Butter thought "of course they came to the SWEET one with that!" Even so, they keep giving us the best parts of themselves, as they are. Loving us from where they are means they often give from those places where they know they still aren't yet their best. Mom often says that we grew up together. This quality of acknowledging the need to continue to grow allows others to do the same. It is a welcoming curiosity that says, "I have not arrived, I still have something to learn, and I am willing to learn from those around me." Loving us from where they were then looked like two young parents who made mistakes, but in that imperfection, they did something I find so very perfect. Mom and dad had many age-appropriate heart to hearts with us that involved exposing their own humanity and vulnerability, asking forgiveness, quickly apologizing for a harsh tone or misspoken word, and not wielding their power as a weapon, but rather as a tool to guide and teach us as they continued to learn and grow alongside us. Watching them engage in this type of humble approach brought such respect for them, it allowed us to know what to do with those areas of pain and brokenness we found in ourselves, and freed us up to ask for help in those places we felt lack.

As I find myself in this season of celebration for both of their lives, I also find a desire to bring that same environment they created for me out to others. We are all wildly different, and we often walk this tightrope of admiring the unique traits we see in those around us, while still somehow wanting to make them act, think, and be more like ourselves. I will likely be challenged today with wanting to make someone into who I wish they would be. Our role here is not to change someone else’s flavor into our own, but instead to name those ingredients we see in them that offer nourishment and goodness to the world, and to celebrate that like crazy. 

I may also be pulled to make myself into something I am not. This doesn't discount the need for growth or for learning new things, but is a gentle reminder that comparison can lure me into a game of label swapping. When I see others getting noticed and praised for their qualities, I could easily fall into the trap of trying to manufacture those traits in my own life to produce the same results. Slapping a jelly label on a jiffy jar is false advertising that will surely get found out. Instead of a shallow switch, I am given the opportunity to do the hard and good work of growth. There are no shortcuts here, but instead a commitment to cultivating the seeds and traits in my life that will become the raw materials for my very own jar of goodness to offer this world.

There are so many life lessons I could pull from their examples to give words and space to, and every road would lead back to the gratitude I have for them both. I am so grateful for the beautiful marriage of peanut butter and jelly lived out in front of me, and for the depth and fullness these two different sides of the sandwich have given to my life.