A good scream. Scream I sure did. My throat is hoarse. I hate that certain triggers I simply can't avoid, even though I wish and pray that I could avoid them. Argh, I hate it. Hate. I needed the kids to go in another room and let me scream and freak out, and good ol' Justin, he let me. There are times like that that I wish I could confront certain people about my frustrations and just be done with it. But it is the realization that some people just don't 'get' it and my letting my tongue loose won't help. It. Drives. Me. Batty. Thankfully my mom let me let loose my frustrations and didn't even make a comment when I said some words she doesn't like. I had no other vocabulary for it, it was that simple. I will take some deep breaths and try to do some more difficult things.
I think the bottom line is, we need to respect the wishes of one another. Always. It has always been the issue and probably always will be.
I may need to go scream again. I wonder if my neighbors can hear when I scream....
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Parent(s)
I was hoping that sleeping it off, I would feel better. Instead I had a weird dream about the day of Adam's death. A nonsensical dream, it was very vivid with the people in my dream, but it was set somewhere totally different and didn't make any sense whatsoever. I don't get it.
Still, the dumbest stuff sets me off. At pack meeting for cub scouts, Justin was called up to get some awards that have been due him for quite some time. With one of the new den leaders being new and with pretty much all of the awards given before Justin's as rank awards, she probably assumed that parents come up to the front with their scouts with every award, which they don't normally do. So she went to have Justin come up. Then she said (she doesn't know us), "Does Justin have any parents?" I sat there, frozen, stone faced. I wanted to yell "NO. He doesn't have parentS. He has a mother." Of course I didn't. I very reluctantly went up, knowing Justin didn't need me up there to receive his arrow points and belt loops. I couldn't smile, I could frown. I was completely numb. It bugs me that stuff like this gets to me.
I read a quote the other day that I found interesting. Of course, all situations are a tad more complex than this, but the point of the quote was sort of empowering--it talked about the fact that each of us has the power to do whatever it is we want to do. That if we don't like our lives, then we get to make our lives something that we like. I think it was a good reminder for me not to whine. If I wanted to go back to school, I could, if I wanted to escape from my children, yes I 'could' go to work full time (that realization was a bit sad, I must say). The bottom line is, life is what we make it. I choose my own happiness. I--and only I--have to make life happen.
Today, I'm going to make life happen instead of wallowing. I want to be able to go to sleep at night and not feel regret for the unacccomplished tasks or dissatisfaction with my life. Off to the gym, off to continue organizing, and off to work on making my bedroom my safe haven. It is time for Adam to go.
Still, the dumbest stuff sets me off. At pack meeting for cub scouts, Justin was called up to get some awards that have been due him for quite some time. With one of the new den leaders being new and with pretty much all of the awards given before Justin's as rank awards, she probably assumed that parents come up to the front with their scouts with every award, which they don't normally do. So she went to have Justin come up. Then she said (she doesn't know us), "Does Justin have any parents?" I sat there, frozen, stone faced. I wanted to yell "NO. He doesn't have parentS. He has a mother." Of course I didn't. I very reluctantly went up, knowing Justin didn't need me up there to receive his arrow points and belt loops. I couldn't smile, I could frown. I was completely numb. It bugs me that stuff like this gets to me.
I read a quote the other day that I found interesting. Of course, all situations are a tad more complex than this, but the point of the quote was sort of empowering--it talked about the fact that each of us has the power to do whatever it is we want to do. That if we don't like our lives, then we get to make our lives something that we like. I think it was a good reminder for me not to whine. If I wanted to go back to school, I could, if I wanted to escape from my children, yes I 'could' go to work full time (that realization was a bit sad, I must say). The bottom line is, life is what we make it. I choose my own happiness. I--and only I--have to make life happen.
Today, I'm going to make life happen instead of wallowing. I want to be able to go to sleep at night and not feel regret for the unacccomplished tasks or dissatisfaction with my life. Off to the gym, off to continue organizing, and off to work on making my bedroom my safe haven. It is time for Adam to go.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Corelle Dishes Break
I got a reminder today. And it wasn't Carson that was throwing his bowl on the floor (I've learned my lesson the hard way a couple of times). Today it was Justin while getting down some cereal bowls. I still have ingrained in my head the commercial Corelle used to have on TV years ago about how those dishes don't break. Well, they lied. Big time. Millions of teeny tiny pieces of dishes everywhere. I knew that would start today off on a yucky foot. I was NOT happy.
I've been on a quest to figure out how to keep one room a day in our house clean. I think the only way to make that happen is to get rid of lots of things, lots of toys, and lots of books. I can't part with books. Argh.
Sister Kunz dropped off a sweet picture that she took of me and the boys at Vala's in the fall. I love it, love the cute frame. Especially since we really don't have many pictures of all 4 of us. I can't believe they're leaving. It's always weird this time of year when we usually have people moving out of our ward. It doesn't matter how many years I've been in our ward, this sort of change is never something I get used to. She told me something today that made me think the rest of the afternoon. She said that this is home now and it will be a very different thing to move back home. I think that all the time, that I can't imagine being anywhere else. I sort of wonder if that is what makes me stay, if it is just easier to stay comfortable rather than move on to life elsewhere. This has become home. The magic question remains, can this place stay "home" when I'm working? Will I be able to swing it all? Can I make it on a nurse's salary and raise three kids? I don't know. Something tells me it'll work out. I just don't know how exactly. Logically, I don't get it.
I punched/kicked out my morning frustrations at the gym. I have realized how much time and energy it takes to commit to consistent exercise--something that I never used to do. Thankfully I have been able to dedicate that time over the past few months consistently. I realize now how much time I could've used through the years in such a worthy pursuit, it sort of bums be out that I didn't grasp hold of this when it would've been easier to do so with Adam around. A friend and I have talked about how it really is "the life" to be able to 'just' go to the gym and get pedicures all the time. I think I wish that I had grasped hold of exercise when Adam did years ago, when he realized that the gym was what was keeping his sanity, keeping certain areas of his life in check. Oh well. Live and learn.
I thought about the blessings my family and receive and have received and I think it boggles my mind, for I feel like we don't deserve the outpouring of support, kindness and generosity. I think I always worry that people don't think I'm grateful enough. I worry that I have forgotten to thank someone for something, whether verbally or in a note. I know it has happened because it has been impossible for me to keep up on all the things people do for us--and especially as I reflect on when I was stuck in that dark first-year-fog. Yet I thank Heavenly Father daily for the many people in our lives who have literally been angels on earth for us. I pray that others will be blessed for their efforts and kindness, for in my mind they deserve all the best. I wish there were something I could do to show my love for those in our lives. It is a humbling thing to know that I can only pray for them.
I've been on a quest to figure out how to keep one room a day in our house clean. I think the only way to make that happen is to get rid of lots of things, lots of toys, and lots of books. I can't part with books. Argh.
Sister Kunz dropped off a sweet picture that she took of me and the boys at Vala's in the fall. I love it, love the cute frame. Especially since we really don't have many pictures of all 4 of us. I can't believe they're leaving. It's always weird this time of year when we usually have people moving out of our ward. It doesn't matter how many years I've been in our ward, this sort of change is never something I get used to. She told me something today that made me think the rest of the afternoon. She said that this is home now and it will be a very different thing to move back home. I think that all the time, that I can't imagine being anywhere else. I sort of wonder if that is what makes me stay, if it is just easier to stay comfortable rather than move on to life elsewhere. This has become home. The magic question remains, can this place stay "home" when I'm working? Will I be able to swing it all? Can I make it on a nurse's salary and raise three kids? I don't know. Something tells me it'll work out. I just don't know how exactly. Logically, I don't get it.
I punched/kicked out my morning frustrations at the gym. I have realized how much time and energy it takes to commit to consistent exercise--something that I never used to do. Thankfully I have been able to dedicate that time over the past few months consistently. I realize now how much time I could've used through the years in such a worthy pursuit, it sort of bums be out that I didn't grasp hold of this when it would've been easier to do so with Adam around. A friend and I have talked about how it really is "the life" to be able to 'just' go to the gym and get pedicures all the time. I think I wish that I had grasped hold of exercise when Adam did years ago, when he realized that the gym was what was keeping his sanity, keeping certain areas of his life in check. Oh well. Live and learn.
I thought about the blessings my family and receive and have received and I think it boggles my mind, for I feel like we don't deserve the outpouring of support, kindness and generosity. I think I always worry that people don't think I'm grateful enough. I worry that I have forgotten to thank someone for something, whether verbally or in a note. I know it has happened because it has been impossible for me to keep up on all the things people do for us--and especially as I reflect on when I was stuck in that dark first-year-fog. Yet I thank Heavenly Father daily for the many people in our lives who have literally been angels on earth for us. I pray that others will be blessed for their efforts and kindness, for in my mind they deserve all the best. I wish there were something I could do to show my love for those in our lives. It is a humbling thing to know that I can only pray for them.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Therapeutic Reflections
This little ol' blog is good therapy. I was reading over some of my older posts and while I know what I write on here isn't all happy-feeley-niceness, it has been good therapy. I have thought about the mechanism of going to see a therapist regularly and since I have so many emotions over the course of the day, I think just straight writing them down has made the most difference in my grief processing. I have hand written journals, online word processing files, and other online blog posts that never feel right to post for all to see. And of course there's my very patient friends who listen to me and accept me for me. I think that has been what I have needed, therapy-wise. I'm glad I clued into this early on.
The past couple days have been a roller coaster. After a couple weeks of having Carson in his new-to-him big boy bed (the one we could NEVER get Spencer to sleep in, so it has sat in our basement for two years), I finally decided I needed to stop staring at the crib in my room--where Carson slept. It was a little creepy without the mattress in it. So I took it apart yesterday. I cried and cried. It's totally illogical to want another child with the stresses of what I do on my own daily, I DO realize. But that crib represented so much. It represented how I feel as a woman, as a mother, it represented sex (lack thereof), and a million emotions tied to the various roles in my life. I was so, so sad to take that crib down, knowing it will most likely never go back up again. Argh.
Thankfully I didn't have time to wallow. Life had other plans yesterday.
I changed the little blocks on my mantle that I make up sayings depending on the season or birthdays, or holidays. I dusted the room and then debated what to say about the 4th of July on these blocks. Having only letters on these little blocks (no numbers) I decided that I would write out "Happy Independence Day." But somehow I didn't like the word "Day" in this saying, it just stretched out too long on the mantle. I wrote "Happy Independence." And then I pondered the rest of the day on what that term means to me.
I'll admit, I'm terrible with history. I can't remember what years which wars happened to save my life. And I understand what it meant for the US to be a free and independent nation, but it's something I can't give a dissertation on, I suppose. We use this term "Happy Independence Day" to celebrate our freedoms. But I got to thinking how amazing it is that we can be independent human beings with freedoms of all kinds--and that I, as a woman, have these same freedoms as men. What an interesting thing it would've been for me to raise 3 little boys as a widow if I had lived in an era where women didn't have the freedoms that we enjoy today. Amazing. I feel very blessed.
Yesterday's baby blahs turned into happy blahs at the end of the day as I got to go help a friend out on a project (hopefully I didn't ruin your house, H! :)). I will say that it is true, helping out friends and neighbors and getting our minds on someone other than ourselves really does turn attitudes and mentality upside down--for the better. I'm so glad my friend let me come over. Since it seems that my rendering service doesn't happen as I would like it to (mostly because if I serve, then someone is likely having to serve me by watching my kiddos!) it feels good to get out of my self absorbed bubble.
This afternoon I started looking up the cost (the worth) of these brand new medical books that have been sitting around the house that are Adam's. I haven't had the mental strength for the past 22 months to stick them on Amazon. And really, they just bug me that they are brand new--he had just bought all of his books for the whole last year of residency, right before he died. But summer de-junking is upon me and it is time. I've held onto these books for too long. I'm debating what I should buy myself with the couple hundred dollars worth of books. It should be a TV. Because that would be the ultimate in irony for my dear Adam. Sweet Adam. I hope you will appreciate my smile--my mental freedom--when I rid the house of these books.
The past couple days have been a roller coaster. After a couple weeks of having Carson in his new-to-him big boy bed (the one we could NEVER get Spencer to sleep in, so it has sat in our basement for two years), I finally decided I needed to stop staring at the crib in my room--where Carson slept. It was a little creepy without the mattress in it. So I took it apart yesterday. I cried and cried. It's totally illogical to want another child with the stresses of what I do on my own daily, I DO realize. But that crib represented so much. It represented how I feel as a woman, as a mother, it represented sex (lack thereof), and a million emotions tied to the various roles in my life. I was so, so sad to take that crib down, knowing it will most likely never go back up again. Argh.
Thankfully I didn't have time to wallow. Life had other plans yesterday.
I changed the little blocks on my mantle that I make up sayings depending on the season or birthdays, or holidays. I dusted the room and then debated what to say about the 4th of July on these blocks. Having only letters on these little blocks (no numbers) I decided that I would write out "Happy Independence Day." But somehow I didn't like the word "Day" in this saying, it just stretched out too long on the mantle. I wrote "Happy Independence." And then I pondered the rest of the day on what that term means to me.
I'll admit, I'm terrible with history. I can't remember what years which wars happened to save my life. And I understand what it meant for the US to be a free and independent nation, but it's something I can't give a dissertation on, I suppose. We use this term "Happy Independence Day" to celebrate our freedoms. But I got to thinking how amazing it is that we can be independent human beings with freedoms of all kinds--and that I, as a woman, have these same freedoms as men. What an interesting thing it would've been for me to raise 3 little boys as a widow if I had lived in an era where women didn't have the freedoms that we enjoy today. Amazing. I feel very blessed.
Yesterday's baby blahs turned into happy blahs at the end of the day as I got to go help a friend out on a project (hopefully I didn't ruin your house, H! :)). I will say that it is true, helping out friends and neighbors and getting our minds on someone other than ourselves really does turn attitudes and mentality upside down--for the better. I'm so glad my friend let me come over. Since it seems that my rendering service doesn't happen as I would like it to (mostly because if I serve, then someone is likely having to serve me by watching my kiddos!) it feels good to get out of my self absorbed bubble.
This afternoon I started looking up the cost (the worth) of these brand new medical books that have been sitting around the house that are Adam's. I haven't had the mental strength for the past 22 months to stick them on Amazon. And really, they just bug me that they are brand new--he had just bought all of his books for the whole last year of residency, right before he died. But summer de-junking is upon me and it is time. I've held onto these books for too long. I'm debating what I should buy myself with the couple hundred dollars worth of books. It should be a TV. Because that would be the ultimate in irony for my dear Adam. Sweet Adam. I hope you will appreciate my smile--my mental freedom--when I rid the house of these books.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Touching the Temple on Father's Day
We had a good day. Until I change my mind otherwise, attending church on Father's Day is just something we won't be doing. I refused to feel tortured (or torturing my children) with having my children join the other children in singing songs like "I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home." So we did our own Father's Day churchy activities instead.
What better than a trip to go visit the temple grounds, pioneer cemetery, and neighboring Mormon Trail Center. We dressed up and took pictures and it was perfect. Unless the kids want to go to church next year on Father's Day, I plan to continue this tradition as long as we live in Omaha.
For a long while now, I have wanted to take pictures with my boys touching the handle of the temple. A smart primary president took my brother Jonathan and my sister Kara (and a gaggle of other primary kiddos) to the Oakland temple one time for this exact purpose. The kids got to go to the visitor's center there and take pictures. I always thought it was such a sweet picture that my siblings had of this special trip. So that's what we did today. With the temple closed on Sundays, it was the perfect time to go and get pictures without people coming and going.
I had heard several people quote this idea of "touching the temple" and wanted to find out which prophet said it, so I went on a hunt this afternoon. I found a couple quotes, but this one I particularly liked:
"During one year, the Primary organization conducted an effort to have the children become better acquainted with the holy temples of God. This frequently entailed a visit to the temple grounds. The laughter of small children, the joy of unfettered youth, and the exuberance of energy displayed by them gladdened the heart of this observer. As a loving teacher guided a boy or girl to the large door of the Salt Lake Temple and the little one reached out and up to touch the temple, I could almost see the Master welcoming the little children to His side and could almost hear His comforting words: “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” Thomas S. Monson, "Finding Peace," Liahona: March 2004
As I read this talk, I knew it wasn't a coincidence that I found this talk today. Several portions spoke to my heart today. This final part that I will quote here is something that I will reflect on in the future. This sweet letter from a husband to his wife spoke to me today. I loved the following last section of this talk. So grateful for my wonderful father, and I'm so grateful for the good father of my children. I am eternally one lucky lady.
Thomas S. Monson (continued):
"Look heavenward. As we do, we find it comforting and satisfying to communicate with our Heavenly Father through prayer, that path to spiritual power—even a passport to peace. We are reminded of His Beloved Son, the Prince of Peace, that pioneer who literally showed the way for others to follow. His divine plan can save us from the Babylons of sin, complacency, and error. His example points the way. When faced with temptation, He shunned it. When offered the world, He declined it. When asked for His life, He gave it.
On one significant occasion, Jesus took a text from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound” 11 —a clear pronouncement of the peace that passeth all understanding.
Frequently, death comes as an intruder. It is an enemy that suddenly appears in the midst of life’s feast, putting out its lights and its gaiety. Death lays its heavy hand upon those dear to us and, at times, leaves us baffled and wondering. In certain situations, as in great suffering and illness, death comes as an angel of mercy. But to those bereaved, the Master’s promise of peace is the comforting balm which heals: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” 12 “I go to prepare a place for you … ; that where I am, there ye may be also.” 13
How I pray that all who have loved then lost might know the reality of the Resurrection and have the unshakable knowledge that families can be forever. One such was a Major Sullivan Ballou, who, during the time of the American Civil War, wrote a touching letter to his wife—just one week before he was killed in the Battle of Bull Run. With me, feel the love of his soul, his trust in God, his courage, his faith.
“July 14, 1861
“Camp Clark, Washington
“My very dear Sarah:
“The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. …
“I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. … I am … perfectly willing … to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government. …
“Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.
“The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive [me] my … faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness. …
“But, O Sarah! if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights … always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.” 14
Our Message of Peace
The darkness of death can ever be dispelled by the light of revealed truth. “I am the resurrection, and the life,” spoke the Master. “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” 15
Added to His own words are those of the angel, spoken to the weeping Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they approached the tomb to care for the body of their Lord: “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.” 16
Such is our message. He lives! And because He lives all shall indeed live again. This knowledge provides the peace for loved ones of those whose graves are hallowed resting places in Flanders fields, where the poppies blow in springtime, and for those who rest in countless other locations, including the depths of the sea. “Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives: ‘I know that my Redeemer lives!’” 17
What better than a trip to go visit the temple grounds, pioneer cemetery, and neighboring Mormon Trail Center. We dressed up and took pictures and it was perfect. Unless the kids want to go to church next year on Father's Day, I plan to continue this tradition as long as we live in Omaha.
For a long while now, I have wanted to take pictures with my boys touching the handle of the temple. A smart primary president took my brother Jonathan and my sister Kara (and a gaggle of other primary kiddos) to the Oakland temple one time for this exact purpose. The kids got to go to the visitor's center there and take pictures. I always thought it was such a sweet picture that my siblings had of this special trip. So that's what we did today. With the temple closed on Sundays, it was the perfect time to go and get pictures without people coming and going.
I had heard several people quote this idea of "touching the temple" and wanted to find out which prophet said it, so I went on a hunt this afternoon. I found a couple quotes, but this one I particularly liked:
"During one year, the Primary organization conducted an effort to have the children become better acquainted with the holy temples of God. This frequently entailed a visit to the temple grounds. The laughter of small children, the joy of unfettered youth, and the exuberance of energy displayed by them gladdened the heart of this observer. As a loving teacher guided a boy or girl to the large door of the Salt Lake Temple and the little one reached out and up to touch the temple, I could almost see the Master welcoming the little children to His side and could almost hear His comforting words: “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.” Thomas S. Monson, "Finding Peace," Liahona: March 2004
As I read this talk, I knew it wasn't a coincidence that I found this talk today. Several portions spoke to my heart today. This final part that I will quote here is something that I will reflect on in the future. This sweet letter from a husband to his wife spoke to me today. I loved the following last section of this talk. So grateful for my wonderful father, and I'm so grateful for the good father of my children. I am eternally one lucky lady.
Thomas S. Monson (continued):
"Look heavenward. As we do, we find it comforting and satisfying to communicate with our Heavenly Father through prayer, that path to spiritual power—even a passport to peace. We are reminded of His Beloved Son, the Prince of Peace, that pioneer who literally showed the way for others to follow. His divine plan can save us from the Babylons of sin, complacency, and error. His example points the way. When faced with temptation, He shunned it. When offered the world, He declined it. When asked for His life, He gave it.
On one significant occasion, Jesus took a text from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound” 11 —a clear pronouncement of the peace that passeth all understanding.
Frequently, death comes as an intruder. It is an enemy that suddenly appears in the midst of life’s feast, putting out its lights and its gaiety. Death lays its heavy hand upon those dear to us and, at times, leaves us baffled and wondering. In certain situations, as in great suffering and illness, death comes as an angel of mercy. But to those bereaved, the Master’s promise of peace is the comforting balm which heals: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” 12 “I go to prepare a place for you … ; that where I am, there ye may be also.” 13
How I pray that all who have loved then lost might know the reality of the Resurrection and have the unshakable knowledge that families can be forever. One such was a Major Sullivan Ballou, who, during the time of the American Civil War, wrote a touching letter to his wife—just one week before he was killed in the Battle of Bull Run. With me, feel the love of his soul, his trust in God, his courage, his faith.
“July 14, 1861
“Camp Clark, Washington
“My very dear Sarah:
“The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. …
“I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. … I am … perfectly willing … to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government. …
“Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.
“The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive [me] my … faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness. …
“But, O Sarah! if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights … always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.” 14
Our Message of Peace
The darkness of death can ever be dispelled by the light of revealed truth. “I am the resurrection, and the life,” spoke the Master. “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” 15
Added to His own words are those of the angel, spoken to the weeping Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they approached the tomb to care for the body of their Lord: “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen.” 16
Such is our message. He lives! And because He lives all shall indeed live again. This knowledge provides the peace for loved ones of those whose graves are hallowed resting places in Flanders fields, where the poppies blow in springtime, and for those who rest in countless other locations, including the depths of the sea. “Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives: ‘I know that my Redeemer lives!’” 17
Camp, ASCO, A BBQ, and Father's Day
It was a good weekend. Maybe in order to gear up for tomorrow I needed a good weekend? I don't know. I hate holidays. And while I love my father dearly, I really hate Father's Day now--the day is forever tainted for me. Am I always going to detest holidays so much? I don't know. I don't WANT to. They're just so darn tough.
Friday a friend watched the kiddos so I could go to Girl's Camp to volunteer as the nurse. It was fun to be able to teach them first aid for 4 hours (4 different sessions of 4 groups of girls) and to be able to help with the minor injuries and sicknesses that happen at such a camp. I felt particularly grateful to be able to put a face to a name with some very good sisters, and to get to know them. It was nice. And it was BEAUTIFUL at camp. I think my California snobbiness always thought that camp needed to be among thick pine trees and in the mountains. The camp they chose down by Nebraska City was neat--it was in a gorgeous forest! And actually, I realized as I was driving down that I had been within 100 yards of this camp before and just didn't know it because it was tucked away in the trees. I remembered going to the apple festival with Adam on one of our scenic drives and we took Justin to the neighboring apple orchard that was less than a football field away from this camp. So strange when I have these deja vu moments. Particularly when it was something so random, in such a rural place away from home. Anyway, it was a lovely place and I was glad to be able to serve. I wished I could've been able to be there all week, but maybe next year.
Today I went to the ASCO Review. I was dead tired so it was a bit rough to stay awake. The kids slept over at a friends house since I knew I wouldn't get home from camp until midnight, and that was a wise thing. I then turned around to leave my house at 7am for the long day of sitting and listening to cancer research. I was struck with something again as I listened to these experts. With the ease of technology and information at our finger tips, I think sometimes we take for granted the way we obtain information, and we sometimes don't refer to experts as "experts." I think there is a tendency with things medical (and in other subjects) to read and then think we "know" something without actually studying it out thoroughly. As I listened to the MANY MANY studies discussed at this years' ASCO, I realized again the complex nature of medicine, of our bodies, and why doctors do deserve so much respect for thoroughly understanding the cellular and microbiological intricacies of the workings of our bodies and drugs. It really was fascinating to listen to, to hear the nitty gritty details of medical studies. The blanket thoughts of just thinking that research is all about money--listening to this type of 6 hour lecture makes one realize that it is much deeper than money as a goal for curing/improving these different types of cancer and disease processes.
Then tonight. I went to a mid singles activity/BBQ. I (admittedly) dread these things, but, knowing that faith requires action...I go anyway. And they aren't all that bad, I mainly just have to get there and then I'm ok. There are some very sweet people who attend these activities that I enjoy very much. I'm reminded that 90% of life is more about our attitude and what we do about it than the 10% of what actually happens to us. So tonight there was a good turnout. We ate, we chatted, we played with fire (uh...ate s'mores from their backyard fire pit). I met some new people, I felt a bond. It always interests me to find those who are in a totally different place in life, with completely different life experience, and to find that they aren't really all that different. I love that. I think most people (yes...this is a BIG generalization, I realize) just want to be happy. Most people want to be married. Most people want to have a family. And it isn't necessarily easy to have all of those things. So I'm coming to realize that supporting each other in these worthy endeavors is more important than casting judgement. It's hard. We ALL JUDGE. We all have opinions on everything. Some of us don't always keep them to ourselves all of the time (yes, I'm smiling at that comment. I'm one of those...). And some don't share enough when they should. But we are all just striving to do the right thing and find joy in our lives.
I think the best summary about what I feel on this topic came from Dieter F. Uchtdorf:
"So many people today are waiting for their own golden ticket—the ticket that they believe holds the key to the happiness they have always dreamed about. For some, the golden ticket may be a perfect marriage; for others, a magazine-cover home or perhaps freedom from stress or worry.
There is nothing wrong with righteous yearnings—we hope and seek after things that are “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy.” The problem comes when we put our happiness on hold as we wait for some future event—our golden ticket—to appear."
So my question for tonight is, how do we set achievable goals, worthy endeavors, while enjoying the moments in life--instead of always thinking "Well, when ____ happens THEN I'll be happy." Or "I can't wait for _____ to happen. Then things will be good." There is a careful balance between looking forward to the future with hope, and losing the moments of joy in everyday happenings. I looked at Carson tonight and realized how he has grown. I have tried to enjoy his stages more than I did when the other boys are little, but I know I've missed a lot. There is always this element of "I can't wait until he sleeps through the night" or "when he starts talking...." or "when he starts walking...." Somehow life seems to have passed me by in so many areas of life. I need to heed President Uchtdorf's counsel to "Forget not to be happy NOW." That is tough. I'll keep working on it.
Friday a friend watched the kiddos so I could go to Girl's Camp to volunteer as the nurse. It was fun to be able to teach them first aid for 4 hours (4 different sessions of 4 groups of girls) and to be able to help with the minor injuries and sicknesses that happen at such a camp. I felt particularly grateful to be able to put a face to a name with some very good sisters, and to get to know them. It was nice. And it was BEAUTIFUL at camp. I think my California snobbiness always thought that camp needed to be among thick pine trees and in the mountains. The camp they chose down by Nebraska City was neat--it was in a gorgeous forest! And actually, I realized as I was driving down that I had been within 100 yards of this camp before and just didn't know it because it was tucked away in the trees. I remembered going to the apple festival with Adam on one of our scenic drives and we took Justin to the neighboring apple orchard that was less than a football field away from this camp. So strange when I have these deja vu moments. Particularly when it was something so random, in such a rural place away from home. Anyway, it was a lovely place and I was glad to be able to serve. I wished I could've been able to be there all week, but maybe next year.
Today I went to the ASCO Review. I was dead tired so it was a bit rough to stay awake. The kids slept over at a friends house since I knew I wouldn't get home from camp until midnight, and that was a wise thing. I then turned around to leave my house at 7am for the long day of sitting and listening to cancer research. I was struck with something again as I listened to these experts. With the ease of technology and information at our finger tips, I think sometimes we take for granted the way we obtain information, and we sometimes don't refer to experts as "experts." I think there is a tendency with things medical (and in other subjects) to read and then think we "know" something without actually studying it out thoroughly. As I listened to the MANY MANY studies discussed at this years' ASCO, I realized again the complex nature of medicine, of our bodies, and why doctors do deserve so much respect for thoroughly understanding the cellular and microbiological intricacies of the workings of our bodies and drugs. It really was fascinating to listen to, to hear the nitty gritty details of medical studies. The blanket thoughts of just thinking that research is all about money--listening to this type of 6 hour lecture makes one realize that it is much deeper than money as a goal for curing/improving these different types of cancer and disease processes.
Then tonight. I went to a mid singles activity/BBQ. I (admittedly) dread these things, but, knowing that faith requires action...I go anyway. And they aren't all that bad, I mainly just have to get there and then I'm ok. There are some very sweet people who attend these activities that I enjoy very much. I'm reminded that 90% of life is more about our attitude and what we do about it than the 10% of what actually happens to us. So tonight there was a good turnout. We ate, we chatted, we played with fire (uh...ate s'mores from their backyard fire pit). I met some new people, I felt a bond. It always interests me to find those who are in a totally different place in life, with completely different life experience, and to find that they aren't really all that different. I love that. I think most people (yes...this is a BIG generalization, I realize) just want to be happy. Most people want to be married. Most people want to have a family. And it isn't necessarily easy to have all of those things. So I'm coming to realize that supporting each other in these worthy endeavors is more important than casting judgement. It's hard. We ALL JUDGE. We all have opinions on everything. Some of us don't always keep them to ourselves all of the time (yes, I'm smiling at that comment. I'm one of those...). And some don't share enough when they should. But we are all just striving to do the right thing and find joy in our lives.
I think the best summary about what I feel on this topic came from Dieter F. Uchtdorf:
"So many people today are waiting for their own golden ticket—the ticket that they believe holds the key to the happiness they have always dreamed about. For some, the golden ticket may be a perfect marriage; for others, a magazine-cover home or perhaps freedom from stress or worry.
There is nothing wrong with righteous yearnings—we hope and seek after things that are “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy.” The problem comes when we put our happiness on hold as we wait for some future event—our golden ticket—to appear."
So my question for tonight is, how do we set achievable goals, worthy endeavors, while enjoying the moments in life--instead of always thinking "Well, when ____ happens THEN I'll be happy." Or "I can't wait for _____ to happen. Then things will be good." There is a careful balance between looking forward to the future with hope, and losing the moments of joy in everyday happenings. I looked at Carson tonight and realized how he has grown. I have tried to enjoy his stages more than I did when the other boys are little, but I know I've missed a lot. There is always this element of "I can't wait until he sleeps through the night" or "when he starts talking...." or "when he starts walking...." Somehow life seems to have passed me by in so many areas of life. I need to heed President Uchtdorf's counsel to "Forget not to be happy NOW." That is tough. I'll keep working on it.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
I'm 3 for 3 Today
I don't usually find it amusing when my children are "Laman and Lemuel"ing when I ask them to do chores, but probably since Justin just came in my room and asked me, "How again do I use the Soft Scrub when I'm scrubbing the bathroom?" only to go back in the bathroom and grumble about how long it takes to get the filmy scrub off the counters...well, I just think it's funny. He probably wouldn't appreciate the giant smirk on my face right now.
Or, his predicament probably seems funny because I'm VERY excited about my accomplishments for today. I don't know. I think manly chores just get me ultra happy. The sense of accomplishment when I complete things that I don't think that I can do, well they just make me elated.
I woke up this morning to a broken fridge. Or more specifically, I woke up to a leak from my water line to my water filter that snapped sending water into my basement, ruining part of my hard wood floor in my kitchen and an area of my kitchen cupboards. NOT cool. But thankfully it is in an area that isn't seen and it'll dry and life will go on. I had to rig a bowl to catch the water in a weird spot in the basement that involved some use of masking tape, but it worked. And then Gregg came over. Thank heavens for Gregg. Seriously, knowing a handy man is VERY important in widowhood. This man knows it all. So he came over and knew what we needed to do. We isolated the problem, figuring out what refrigerator part was needed. While he went off to a meeting at church this morning, I made the needed calls to this cute little appliance part store that he told me about when he has fixed other appliance problems for me. I went in there with the boys and got what part I needed, showed them the pictures of the problem with the pictures I'd taken on my smart phone (which was a brilliant last minute thought, I might add. Grateful for THAT inspiration because that helped!), and off I went. I knew I could figure out how to install this part, and sure enough I DID IT!!!!! YIPPPEEEE! I think these affirmations are worth more than a million bucks. It spurred me on to finish a couple other things I was dreading/dragging my feet. I got rid of the wasp nests (yes, without a sting), and I hung up the cornice box that I made a couple weeks ago and hadn't had the guts to try to install the wall anchors that I needed. But, as was the case again, often times it just takes some guts to attempt hard things. And voila! Done! Now I just have to let my floor dry out for the next few days and hope that maybe some of the swelling of the wood floor will go down a bit, we shall see.
SO very happy.
Now to nap. This cold is AWEFUL. I really need to figure out a cure to the common cold. I know it's possible. I'm working on it. We'll add that to my long term to-do list. :)
Or, his predicament probably seems funny because I'm VERY excited about my accomplishments for today. I don't know. I think manly chores just get me ultra happy. The sense of accomplishment when I complete things that I don't think that I can do, well they just make me elated.
I woke up this morning to a broken fridge. Or more specifically, I woke up to a leak from my water line to my water filter that snapped sending water into my basement, ruining part of my hard wood floor in my kitchen and an area of my kitchen cupboards. NOT cool. But thankfully it is in an area that isn't seen and it'll dry and life will go on. I had to rig a bowl to catch the water in a weird spot in the basement that involved some use of masking tape, but it worked. And then Gregg came over. Thank heavens for Gregg. Seriously, knowing a handy man is VERY important in widowhood. This man knows it all. So he came over and knew what we needed to do. We isolated the problem, figuring out what refrigerator part was needed. While he went off to a meeting at church this morning, I made the needed calls to this cute little appliance part store that he told me about when he has fixed other appliance problems for me. I went in there with the boys and got what part I needed, showed them the pictures of the problem with the pictures I'd taken on my smart phone (which was a brilliant last minute thought, I might add. Grateful for THAT inspiration because that helped!), and off I went. I knew I could figure out how to install this part, and sure enough I DID IT!!!!! YIPPPEEEE! I think these affirmations are worth more than a million bucks. It spurred me on to finish a couple other things I was dreading/dragging my feet. I got rid of the wasp nests (yes, without a sting), and I hung up the cornice box that I made a couple weeks ago and hadn't had the guts to try to install the wall anchors that I needed. But, as was the case again, often times it just takes some guts to attempt hard things. And voila! Done! Now I just have to let my floor dry out for the next few days and hope that maybe some of the swelling of the wood floor will go down a bit, we shall see.
SO very happy.
Now to nap. This cold is AWEFUL. I really need to figure out a cure to the common cold. I know it's possible. I'm working on it. We'll add that to my long term to-do list. :)
Friday, June 8, 2012
Tonight's Blessings
The first on my list tonight is sort of a funny-ha-ha sort of blessing. I was noticing the house started feeling cold before I headed to my bedroom for the night, so I thought I'd go adjust the temp. It was 73. As I moved the control back to 75 where I generally like it, I discovered that one (or two...or three) little munchkin turned the a/c down to 54. Good thing I caught that! :)
I was telling a friend the other day how this summer has seemed rather busy--busier than every past summer. Tonight, it dawned on me that I think I know why: My boys are busier than ever. No, I don't have them signed up for 12 sports teams and 8 lessons of some sort. I think that they're just active, growing boys. And I've compensated by making sure they're kept busy--as much as possible, anyway. I've also tried to carve out some "me" time, which has probably also contributed to the busyness. That said, tonight I'm grateful for this nice busy summer that we're having. It's nice to be home with them, even if they are driving me a bit CRAZY!!
Summary of my week:
4/5 gym days (YAY for new Power Step class--I LOVE!), 1 giant head cold for me (couldn't get to the gym if I wanted to today), 1 birthday party to attend, 2 trips to the splash pad, 1 trip to the pool, 1 trip to the library, 1 visit from a friend, 1 grocery shopping trip, 1 cub scout night, 1 cub scout meeting (me), 1 trip to pick strawberries at Bellevue Berry Farm, 5 containers of homemade freezer jam made, 2/4 successful nights of sleeping in a toddler bed without getting up to play in the middle of the night (Carson), bills paid, talked on the phone a lot to friends (and Mom--I do a lot of that!), naps taken, lawn mowed, doctor appointment had, and as I complete this list, I realize not a whole lot of service. Hmm. I need to figure out how to incorporate that into our lives a bit better--the boys need to see and do more of that. Maybe we'll deliver some of that freezer jam tomorrow....
Still need to do tomorrow: removal of wasp nests in fence. Hopefully they aren't too giant by tomorrow. Yikes.
I was telling a friend the other day how this summer has seemed rather busy--busier than every past summer. Tonight, it dawned on me that I think I know why: My boys are busier than ever. No, I don't have them signed up for 12 sports teams and 8 lessons of some sort. I think that they're just active, growing boys. And I've compensated by making sure they're kept busy--as much as possible, anyway. I've also tried to carve out some "me" time, which has probably also contributed to the busyness. That said, tonight I'm grateful for this nice busy summer that we're having. It's nice to be home with them, even if they are driving me a bit CRAZY!!
Summary of my week:
4/5 gym days (YAY for new Power Step class--I LOVE!), 1 giant head cold for me (couldn't get to the gym if I wanted to today), 1 birthday party to attend, 2 trips to the splash pad, 1 trip to the pool, 1 trip to the library, 1 visit from a friend, 1 grocery shopping trip, 1 cub scout night, 1 cub scout meeting (me), 1 trip to pick strawberries at Bellevue Berry Farm, 5 containers of homemade freezer jam made, 2/4 successful nights of sleeping in a toddler bed without getting up to play in the middle of the night (Carson), bills paid, talked on the phone a lot to friends (and Mom--I do a lot of that!), naps taken, lawn mowed, doctor appointment had, and as I complete this list, I realize not a whole lot of service. Hmm. I need to figure out how to incorporate that into our lives a bit better--the boys need to see and do more of that. Maybe we'll deliver some of that freezer jam tomorrow....
Still need to do tomorrow: removal of wasp nests in fence. Hopefully they aren't too giant by tomorrow. Yikes.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Doctor
What a range of emotions today brought! I don't know what woman actually 'enjoys' visiting her OBGYN, other than maybe when she is pregnant, I suppose. But I had an appointment scheduled with my doc today. I love this doctor, she is fabulous, and she's a doctor Adam suggested for me after he watched her in action as a med student and worked with her. But still, having not seen a doctor for me in over a year, and also worried about how I would feel since all her staff knew of Adam, and knows who I am. I was welcomed by all the staff and they were all very sweet. I did know that I would face the series of 1000 questions that I always have to field, and determine how much information to share. That is tricky.
I wanted to write down a few thoughts though so I don't forget. When my doctor sat down and just chatted with me for a bit, she she wanted me to know of a flashback she had a couple days before I had called in to schedule my appointment. She said that she had had a flashback to Adam's memorial service (she came to that and not the funeral, if I remember right) and she said how much she loved singing and, in particular, the songs that were chosen. I remember when she asked who chose the music and I told her I did, how floored she was. That makes me smile now, remembering that I chose "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel" as the closing hymn. I remember carefully going through the hymn book when planning his funeral and feeling like that was the song that Adam's coworkers needed somehow during his Creighton memorial service. It made sense as I read through all the words to that hymn. So I loved our conversation about Adam's memorial service today.
I also found our conversation interesting, or at least some of her specific questions. She wanted to know if I felt Adam near--a question she had asked me at my visit a year ago. I explained the only thing that makes "sense" to explain, that he is still in my very vivid dreams, which is generally comforting...except when I feel like I need to move forward than living in the shadow of our past.
She asked if I was ready to date, and was glad when I said yes. She said, "This is good. It shows the progress and healing you have found." This was a comforting statement to hear today.
I will admit how difficult it was to sit in this office, with the many many hours I have spent there over the course of two of my pregnancies. Difficult to watch the happy pregnant women walk through the doors and know that that isn't going to be me again. Even more difficult to watch as the doors opened and shut and having flashbacks of when Adam would come and go to office visits with me, ultrasounds, etc. I remember him showing up in his green scrubs having come from work. It amazes me how much the image of those green scrubs still just hurts my heart. I miss our medical discussions, our medical life, the comfort it brought me, the comfort it brought our relationship. I'm not sure if I will ever 'get over' that. Gosh. Thinking about him walking through those doors. It just takes my breath away.
So it was good, all in all. Just a weird mix of memories and emotions. The grief that comes still comes in waves. I will always have swings I'm sure, but I think I'm learning to deal with them better. At least, I think so. I hope so.
I wanted to write down a few thoughts though so I don't forget. When my doctor sat down and just chatted with me for a bit, she she wanted me to know of a flashback she had a couple days before I had called in to schedule my appointment. She said that she had had a flashback to Adam's memorial service (she came to that and not the funeral, if I remember right) and she said how much she loved singing and, in particular, the songs that were chosen. I remember when she asked who chose the music and I told her I did, how floored she was. That makes me smile now, remembering that I chose "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel" as the closing hymn. I remember carefully going through the hymn book when planning his funeral and feeling like that was the song that Adam's coworkers needed somehow during his Creighton memorial service. It made sense as I read through all the words to that hymn. So I loved our conversation about Adam's memorial service today.
I also found our conversation interesting, or at least some of her specific questions. She wanted to know if I felt Adam near--a question she had asked me at my visit a year ago. I explained the only thing that makes "sense" to explain, that he is still in my very vivid dreams, which is generally comforting...except when I feel like I need to move forward than living in the shadow of our past.
She asked if I was ready to date, and was glad when I said yes. She said, "This is good. It shows the progress and healing you have found." This was a comforting statement to hear today.
I will admit how difficult it was to sit in this office, with the many many hours I have spent there over the course of two of my pregnancies. Difficult to watch the happy pregnant women walk through the doors and know that that isn't going to be me again. Even more difficult to watch as the doors opened and shut and having flashbacks of when Adam would come and go to office visits with me, ultrasounds, etc. I remember him showing up in his green scrubs having come from work. It amazes me how much the image of those green scrubs still just hurts my heart. I miss our medical discussions, our medical life, the comfort it brought me, the comfort it brought our relationship. I'm not sure if I will ever 'get over' that. Gosh. Thinking about him walking through those doors. It just takes my breath away.
So it was good, all in all. Just a weird mix of memories and emotions. The grief that comes still comes in waves. I will always have swings I'm sure, but I think I'm learning to deal with them better. At least, I think so. I hope so.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Welcome to Holland
Welcome to Holland: Widowed Version By Carol Turkington
You are planning a vacation to Italy. You're all excited. You get a whole bunch of guidebooks, you learn a few phrases so you can get around, and then it comes time to pack your bags and head for the airport.
Only when you land, the flight attendant says, "Welcome to Holland". You look at one another in disbelief and shock, saying, "Holland? What are you talking about? I signed up for Italy." But they explain that there's been a change of plan, that you've landed in Holland and you must stay there. "But I don't know anything about Holland" you say. "I don't want to stay".
But stay you do. You go out and buy some new guide books, you learn some new phrases and you meet people you never knew existed. The important thing is that you are not in a slum full of pestilence and famine. You are simply in a different place than you had planned. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy, but after you've been here a little while and you've had a chance to catch your breath, you begin to discover that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland has Rembrandts.
But everyone else you know is busy coming and going from Italy. They are all bragging about what a great time they had there, and for the rest of your life, you'll say, "yes, that's what I had planned."
The pain of this loss will never go away because the loss of that plan is a very, very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't go to Italy, you will never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.
You are planning a vacation to Italy. You're all excited. You get a whole bunch of guidebooks, you learn a few phrases so you can get around, and then it comes time to pack your bags and head for the airport.
Only when you land, the flight attendant says, "Welcome to Holland". You look at one another in disbelief and shock, saying, "Holland? What are you talking about? I signed up for Italy." But they explain that there's been a change of plan, that you've landed in Holland and you must stay there. "But I don't know anything about Holland" you say. "I don't want to stay".
But stay you do. You go out and buy some new guide books, you learn some new phrases and you meet people you never knew existed. The important thing is that you are not in a slum full of pestilence and famine. You are simply in a different place than you had planned. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy, but after you've been here a little while and you've had a chance to catch your breath, you begin to discover that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland has Rembrandts.
But everyone else you know is busy coming and going from Italy. They are all bragging about what a great time they had there, and for the rest of your life, you'll say, "yes, that's what I had planned."
The pain of this loss will never go away because the loss of that plan is a very, very significant loss. But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't go to Italy, you will never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Praying for Strength
Well, since my children haven't yet learned my 6:30 am rule for awakening and have loved that the sun wakes up at 5:30 am right now....I might as well do something with my thoughts before I embark on a new day.
Yesterday I was teaching primary. The topic for sharing time was (I'm paraphrasing here) "Heavenly Father helps me choose the right when I pray for strength." I really thought about this for the couple of days before my lesson. I mean, I pray for strength all of the time, but is it so that I can have strength to make wise choices and do the right thing?...or is it just that I want strength so that things will go "right?" I have decided it is probably the latter.
Last night I was analyzing my day (as I always do). Yesterday was "Fast Sunday." In our church, once a month we go without food and drink for two consecutive meals and fast. Besides the health benefits, (and that we give "fast offerings" to our church--the cost of two meals, or more if we choose--as a means to provide for the poor within our congregational boundaries), fasting is an opportunity to commune with the Lord. When combined with prayer (as it is intended) is a blessing and a very spiritual experience. We are asked to fast with a purpose in mind--something that we want to ponder on, something with which we feel we need guidance. I decided to fast for strength to tackle all that I have on my plate and to gain clarity. I have fasted for this before. Many times, actually. But after studying this topic for my lesson, I realized my focus about the topic of strength has been skewed a bit.
I have been staying up too late lately. I feel my eyes get tired at 8pm and know that I should be sleeping much earlier than the midnight or so that I've been going to sleep. I think it has been more and more difficult to actually get in my bed--it really is mental. I just go through these waves of intense longing for Adam. And I'm tired of hurting that he's gone. It's ridiculous. It gets me no where. And I'm a person of action with most things. Ugh.
My point in explaining that is that I was up too late again last night. I was piecing some fabric together for a sewing project and I got sucked into watching one of my favorite movies, "Sabrina." At around midnight I made myself go to sleep. It's never that I'm not tired enough. In truth I fall right to sleep when I get in my bed. But it is the act of getting into an empty bed that has become so tedious...so hurtful.
As I got ready for bed, I pondered on my fast. Did I feel like I received answers that I sought? What do I think about things? I concluded that I just get overwhelmed by everything...and quickly. So I give up on ALL of it, which isn't good. I really DO need to process my grief and ALL of it.
I started thinking about how I feel like I need to 'fix' all parts of me, the spiritual, physical, emotional, mental parts of me that are broken. And I think that it is tough because I can't really just fix one of this areas thoroughly and then move on to the next area. I have to work on all a little at a time...which overwhelms me.
I tried to mentally start listing out what I'm doing in each of these areas and again just had to stop. The words to a scripture came to my mind, very distinctly. I had to google the phrase because I couldn't place at that moment where it was. "Not requisite" was the only part that held in my mind. So I looked it up.
Mosiah 4:27 states:
27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.
This was just what I needed to read--and hear. I am coming to understand that I am not going to feel "fixed" or anything for a very long time, maybe EVER. Grief will be a lifelong process. Never a checkbox to be able to say 'DONE' or that I can say I've conquered or accomplished. I'm sure people don't understand why I still struggle and 'they' probably make judgements about how I still pine for my dead husband. But the reality is that I am changed because of him. And I have changed because he died. I will always long to a degree for the many things that I can't have, that WE can't have.
But, I can't do everything and BE everything for everyone. I have to feel what I feel and be ok with it. I have to be diligent, but not "run faster than I have strength." And maybe for me, the important part is not getting down on myself about not running faster than I have strength. I can't get mad that the pounds aren't falling off as I assumed they would with my exercise routine. Or that I would be able to finish my many projects that I want to do this summer. Or that my house would be cleaner because *surely* my children would be able to adhere to their very easy chores that I assigned them for the summer. So silly. I just try to tackle too many things at once.
I think I see too many people that have (what appears to be) such idyllic lives that I forget that I measure my worst with others best. I also forget that my life isn't what others have. I have three children to care for by myself. It is amazing how much work each added child is to the mix. And it is also amazing how much work younger children are. Life is busy. I can't get mad at myself for trying to do more than I have strength, I just need to recognize that what I WANT TO DO is NOT what I NEED TO DO. I also need to focus on having strength simply to choose the right, do the right, and be the right.
"All things must be done in order."
Yesterday I was teaching primary. The topic for sharing time was (I'm paraphrasing here) "Heavenly Father helps me choose the right when I pray for strength." I really thought about this for the couple of days before my lesson. I mean, I pray for strength all of the time, but is it so that I can have strength to make wise choices and do the right thing?...or is it just that I want strength so that things will go "right?" I have decided it is probably the latter.
Last night I was analyzing my day (as I always do). Yesterday was "Fast Sunday." In our church, once a month we go without food and drink for two consecutive meals and fast. Besides the health benefits, (and that we give "fast offerings" to our church--the cost of two meals, or more if we choose--as a means to provide for the poor within our congregational boundaries), fasting is an opportunity to commune with the Lord. When combined with prayer (as it is intended) is a blessing and a very spiritual experience. We are asked to fast with a purpose in mind--something that we want to ponder on, something with which we feel we need guidance. I decided to fast for strength to tackle all that I have on my plate and to gain clarity. I have fasted for this before. Many times, actually. But after studying this topic for my lesson, I realized my focus about the topic of strength has been skewed a bit.
I have been staying up too late lately. I feel my eyes get tired at 8pm and know that I should be sleeping much earlier than the midnight or so that I've been going to sleep. I think it has been more and more difficult to actually get in my bed--it really is mental. I just go through these waves of intense longing for Adam. And I'm tired of hurting that he's gone. It's ridiculous. It gets me no where. And I'm a person of action with most things. Ugh.
My point in explaining that is that I was up too late again last night. I was piecing some fabric together for a sewing project and I got sucked into watching one of my favorite movies, "Sabrina." At around midnight I made myself go to sleep. It's never that I'm not tired enough. In truth I fall right to sleep when I get in my bed. But it is the act of getting into an empty bed that has become so tedious...so hurtful.
As I got ready for bed, I pondered on my fast. Did I feel like I received answers that I sought? What do I think about things? I concluded that I just get overwhelmed by everything...and quickly. So I give up on ALL of it, which isn't good. I really DO need to process my grief and ALL of it.
I started thinking about how I feel like I need to 'fix' all parts of me, the spiritual, physical, emotional, mental parts of me that are broken. And I think that it is tough because I can't really just fix one of this areas thoroughly and then move on to the next area. I have to work on all a little at a time...which overwhelms me.
I tried to mentally start listing out what I'm doing in each of these areas and again just had to stop. The words to a scripture came to my mind, very distinctly. I had to google the phrase because I couldn't place at that moment where it was. "Not requisite" was the only part that held in my mind. So I looked it up.
Mosiah 4:27 states:
27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.
This was just what I needed to read--and hear. I am coming to understand that I am not going to feel "fixed" or anything for a very long time, maybe EVER. Grief will be a lifelong process. Never a checkbox to be able to say 'DONE' or that I can say I've conquered or accomplished. I'm sure people don't understand why I still struggle and 'they' probably make judgements about how I still pine for my dead husband. But the reality is that I am changed because of him. And I have changed because he died. I will always long to a degree for the many things that I can't have, that WE can't have.
But, I can't do everything and BE everything for everyone. I have to feel what I feel and be ok with it. I have to be diligent, but not "run faster than I have strength." And maybe for me, the important part is not getting down on myself about not running faster than I have strength. I can't get mad that the pounds aren't falling off as I assumed they would with my exercise routine. Or that I would be able to finish my many projects that I want to do this summer. Or that my house would be cleaner because *surely* my children would be able to adhere to their very easy chores that I assigned them for the summer. So silly. I just try to tackle too many things at once.
I think I see too many people that have (what appears to be) such idyllic lives that I forget that I measure my worst with others best. I also forget that my life isn't what others have. I have three children to care for by myself. It is amazing how much work each added child is to the mix. And it is also amazing how much work younger children are. Life is busy. I can't get mad at myself for trying to do more than I have strength, I just need to recognize that what I WANT TO DO is NOT what I NEED TO DO. I also need to focus on having strength simply to choose the right, do the right, and be the right.
"All things must be done in order."