Kindred Spirit

Someday maybe I’ll fully explain the story of my “Ten-Year Prayer,” but today I would like to share the story of probably one of the fastest answers God has ever given me.

I am not really like most of the people around me.

I don’t drink. I’m a virgin. I say things like “Jesus is my homeboy,” and I totally mean it. I spend my days dancing around my lab, playing video games, and reading research articles for fun. Most of my afternoons are spent talking to my mom or dad on the phone, just because I want to hear their voices. I’m conservative, but I’m essentially just Pro-life. I say “y’all,” and I listen to country music.

I like being different.

I don’t even mind when people say, “Felicity, you’re weird, but that’s why we love you.”

I was raised to be unique, and at the end of the day, I know that each person who interacted with me interacted with the real Felicity, not some people-pleaser who alters her personality to fit in. It's my favorite thing about myself. (But yes, I do look like a bit of a teacher’s pet around my advisor. That’s just because I’m obsessed with my lab. 

I’ll admit, there are definitely days when I wish there was someone more like me around. Someone that was raised in a similar manner and had the same worldview. One night, I was particularly lonely, so I went to the chapel in my graduate apartment complex.

“God, could you please send me someone like me?” 

At the time, I was hoping that He would send me a cute Catholic boy that was willing to talk to me about science and Jesus. I’m sort of a romantic. Of course, God does not typically answer our prayers to our specifications, so He went and gave me someone else…someone better.

He gave me my grandmother, whom we kids call Monga.

Monga has always been a part of my life. My summers were spent at her pool with my cousins, and it was the first place I drove on my own. When I was paying for my private tap lessons on my own, Monga paid me to iron all of my grandfather’s clothes and drove me to and from school.

We were pretty close, but unfortunately for some time, I was somewhat distant. Not in a bad way, just in a immature mindless way. I was more interested in what was going on around me instead of what was going on back in Tucson where Monga lived. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Monga, but I was just a little to immature to realize how blessed I was to have her in my life. Many of my friends did not have any living grandparents, and yet mine would come to Nashville and do all of our laundry for fun.

People always told me that I was like Monga.

And I didn’t quite see it.

Well by some odd turn of events, I ended up calling Monga a couple days after I prayed for someone like me to enter my life. We talked for an hour about what I was doing at Notre Dame, and I basically caught her up on my life. Nothing too deep, but it was nice to talk to her.

She told me that it was an act of mercy for me to call.

She was missing her family, just like I had all semester.

Because I knew how happy it made Monga for me to call, I started to call her more often. When I walked home from the lab in the cold, I would give her a quick call. When my parents were busy, I called Monga instead. Over time these chats got longer and longer until we could talk for two hours, and I would not even notice the amount of time I spent out in the cold, walking around and talking to my grandmother.

Yesterday I had a bit of a revelation.

Monga was talking about something, of which I cannot remember. All I remembered was thinking, “You’re exactly like me.”

I kept talking to her, laughing and chatting about boys, and TV shows, and family, and all the sorts of things that I had so desperately wanted to talk about. In almost 23 years, I had not realized just how much I had in common with the woman who raised my best friend. (For you Dear Readers who do not know, my mommy is my best friend.) My heart felt warm, and a huge smile froze on my face.

God did not send a boy because I did not need a boy.

God did not send a new girl friend because I did not need any new friends (although I am still open to all friendships)

God simply reminded me of a good friend and family member that was a part of my life all along. My mom, who is by and far the smartest woman I know, had always told me that I needed to call her more often, but I guess it just took an extra nudge from The Holy Spirit to get me there. 

As per usual, my mom was right.

For anyone who feels like they may be just a little misunderstood, or lonely, or just want to find someone to share life with, I would strongly encourage you to speak to your parents or your grandparents. As crazy as it sounds, they have already gone through much of what we go through in our day to day lives. Texting and social media may not have been a thing, but transitions and awkwardness and financial struggles were just as prevalent in their lives as they are our's.

And just as my mother did for me, I will also do for my future children. I want my kids to know my mom because she is my favorite human being in the world, and I don’t say it enough.

I’m so grateful that God gave me such amazing grandparents, and I am particularly grateful that now I am able to share more and more with the woman who I share so much with.