Friday, May 7, 2010

"To do the very best we can, and then to choose to be happy about our circumstances, whatever they may be, can bring peace and contentment."
President Thomas S. Monson

Mothers' Day has not been my favorite day for a long time. It's not that I don't have a family that loves me or anything... Dee and the kids are just the best ever! It's just going to church, and then sitting there, listening to talk after talk...stories of their sainted mother...You know, the one who never raised her voice at the children, never got mad at Dad, always had warm homemade cookies waiting for them after school, raised eight perfect children who each always did an hour of chores each day without being asked, who had prepared Family Home Evenings, scripture reading every morning, family prayer twice a day-all kneeling as a family, attended each and every baseball game, choir and band concert, taught each daughter to sew beautifully, cut all the boys hair (and no one else could tell!), braided daisies into the daughters' hair...blech! Very often, I had just gotten done helping six children get ready for Church, and, while they were all dressed, we were too late for the boys to participate in passing the Sacrament, and I had gotten angry...very, very angry...and, perhaps, I had even yelled...a bit, anyway. Over time, those things just don't go away, and you become certain that, if you just had not gotten angry that one time, if you had just watched that baseball game instead of driving down to the field, kissing the bat on the "sweet spot" for luck, and then driving home because you absolutely couldn't stand the coach, if you had just not listened to that 4th grade teacher and gotten mad at the one that didn't get their personal life line project done, or even started, and it was due on Monday, so you spent the entire weekend chewing on that poor child-eventually finishing the project, only to have the teacher decide to put off the due date, not once, not twice, but THREE times, if I had only gone to that track meet, if I had not laughed at the wrong time, or said the wrong thing, if I had just been like any other normal parent and let them go to the all night long "Grad Night Gala", if I had pushed more, or pushed less, if I had made Sundays nicer, if I had baked more, or less, if I had hugged more, if I hadn't said "I hate you" when I couldn't find my silly car keys when we needed to be at dancing lessons-even though I profusely apologized over and over and over, if I had paid attention more to all those late night bike rides, if I had gotten a job-then they would have not had to get a job in high school and instead would have had fun and then I would have gotten those Nike socks, paid those band fees for the "it's not just high school marching band...it is a life commitment", and now that we NEED some extra money and I have absolutely NO skills that are even remotely marketable (Can't even qualify to clean up banquets at a Marriot...what the heck? I do tons of dishes every single day!), and then I could maybe consider a newer car that could get me to Vegas because my poor daughter has been sick and just is a little behind and is under so much stress that she is not making enough milk for my cute little grandson and I can't even justify a plane ticket, if I had said "I love you" more, or hugged more and more and tons and tons...On and on it goes. It was crippling to me. I would fall into such a deep depression that it would last for weeks...and, last year, it was so bad that the ONLY thing that brought me out was a cherished gift from the said Vegas over stressed daughter, who was so inspired to send this a little after Mothers' Day.

This year was gonna follow suit, just like the years before...Was, until I was touched by a lesson, given by someone who chose to listen to the Spirit instead of thinking "but my lesson is all prepared...why change it, and only a couple of days before." Our lesson was on Forgiving....Ourselves. Yes, ourselves. At first, I made some off comment about how appropriate that choice of lesson topic was, the week before Mothers' Day. laugh. Then, I listened...and I learned that I didn't HAVE to torment myself for what I felt I did, or did not do. I needed to follow the steps to repent...to confess my "do's and don't do's" to the Lord, and then to ask HIS forgiveness. I have told the kids, from time to time, about the sad and bad and not so good things I did and I have tried to make up for them, but I realized I had never fully repented. So, Monday, on my run, when I am alone and can talk, I poured my heart out to my Heavenly Father. I told Him where I felt I had erred. I asked forgiveness. He let me know, in my mind's eye, what I was NOT responsible for. Choices...agency...the gift from our Heavenly Father. No one is FORCED to choose anything, good or bad. My only duty is to stand by them, and to love them, no matter what! and, boy, with my kids, that is sooooo EASY!!!!! I love them all...each and every one...to death. There is nothing...I repeat....nothing they could do that would make me not love them (except, maybe, vote for Obama...but, I digress...)and...(hey, kids...you are free to vote for who you want to...just don't tell me! and, heck, I will love you anyway...may take you for counseling, but I will love you!...oops, again, I digress)What a run I had...talking to myself, crying, smiling...certainly there was no chance of "stranger attack" that morning...anyone who saw me was certain I was a lunatic, or was on some mind-altering medication. The burden lifted was...amazing...awe inspiring. I had only heard of others who have felt this freedom that comes from repenting and being forgiven...and, yes, I FEEL forgiven. As one dear friend said...I did not wake up in the morning and decide to ruin a child's life. I tried very very hard to be a good mom...and I still am! I am much, much more patient, though I do get a little edgy when my living room is out of order or if someone leaves more junk on my island counter...hey people, it's all I ask...to walk out and have my island clean, without green plaid shoes under it, or an obstacle course of track and camouflage backpacks under it, or spills from last nights "late night, or after work" meals/snacks. Is that really asking too much???...oops, I digress yet again.... Anyway, I am actually looking forward to this Sunday...I am gonna get up early, read my Book of Mormon...oh, how i love to start my day that way!...and study a few conference talks. I'm gonna go to church, and watch all the sweet little kids sitting next to our family, watch and snicker as another little girl comes in and wants to know why she can't have pink hair like Kayty's, dream of a little row up in Las Vegas where my grandbabies are sitting...and then listen to the talks....laugh, remember, and maybe learn how I can be an even better Grammy...hint hint, kiddos...Allison has given me three, Charles is watching and waiting with Heavenly Father...whenever YOU decide, it's totally fine with me if you want to give me a grandbaby, or two... and just enjoy the memories...of helping dressing little girls back stage and putting hair up in a bun so they could go out and dance in their recital for their families to admire (come to think of it, I don't think, after her first recital and show, that I ever saw Allison dance any way but from the side), of washing that darned red dirt out of baseball pants so my Oriole could make another batch of lucky Kung Pao Chicken-with bean sprouts I had gotten special- so he could go play in another playoff game, of laughing at a sweet boy who had to sleep in a ground bed he had made for himself to get the Wilderness Survival merit badge...laughing because he made it just a foot or two too short, and it was raining, and, though it didn't leak, his feet were uncovered...and wet,...of standing at a middle school and cheering for a cross country running son who was working sooooo hard to earn his new, improved, and very much harder Personal Fitness merit badge...and of holding his ankles and literally willing just a few more situps out of him as his tough counselor was testing him...of smiling at her as she sings with her college choir-with the biggest smile on her face, which really rarely happens, unless she is on stage and singing...of his name being said on the loud speaker at a high school football game when he made a tackle...of graduations and yearbooks, of golf tournaments and newspaper stories...of Eagle Scout Projects, of Young Women Medallions, of temple cakes for Young Women In Excellence, of prom dresses with yards and yards and yards of black tulle to gather, of tuxedos and corsages, of bouquets that a selective bride who knew exactly what she wanted actually liked, of watching them walk down an aisle or kneel across an altar...and shedding the very same tears for both... of watching them bear children, lose a baby, and crying with them, laughing with them, cheering for them, booing the other parents that shook pop cans with rocks in them to rattle a son who was pitching a championship little league game...and he had just been taught to pitch that morning (and then watching him, a couple of years later, in the same situation - he was a GREAT catcher... but this time, he won the game!) of being in total awe of that new grandson...the first, but not being able to go home until I knew that MY baby-now a mother herself-was all right and safe in her hospital room, of trips to the beach and watching Arizona boys, all red and frozen, running out in the surf of Pismo Beach while the local guys had wet suits on, of camping trips, fishing trips, of poetry contests, and fantastic sports photos published in high school newspapers, of wins, and losses, and very good tries, of art contests and paintings and ceramics, of bows- both the shooting kind and the wearing kind, of Girl's camp and Boy Scout camp, of phone calls: from Washington, D.C., on Mothers' Day from Missouri and Washington state, from a Journalism conference, from Flagstaff, from Las Vegas, and texts that come so fast-and patience while my responses are sooooo slow, and pictures of adventures on their own, and watching as they help each other-build a dj system, move, give a ride, repair a bicycle, take to and from a prom...and hearing their squeals on the cell phone as they share a date, or a party... I will smile this Sunday...a lot. I love being a mom, and a Grammy...I love you all...Allison, Michael, Adam, Grace, Joshua, Ethan, Cameo, Doran, Danyel, Charles, Morgan, Katelyn, and Nathan...and you will only know how much I do, when you get to do the same wonderful things with your own children...I am right, aren't I, Allison and Mike!

1 comment:

Kathy said...

Wow! Well said. I just love your perspective. Motherhood can be hard, but it is by far, the very best thing!