With Mark in public school this year, I have noticed two big changes in my life. I don’t have to run everywhere I go, including through the house. I have time to walk. And, all I want to do is write, so I do.
Mark is so dear, and he is doing very well.
Oh, yes, I remember. This is how my heart feels during a child’s senior year of high school: squeezed, stretched, and anxious. I avoided it for a few weeks, but I have arrived at the tissue phase.
I have been working on compiling pictures of Daniel’s Scouting years so I can really wallow in the sweet agony.
Today’s journey through memory brings forth his collections, erudite vocabulary, his good leaders, a tiny blue cast for his leg, the homeschool years, desert views, piano playing, and speckled blue eyes.
A child’s influence is very powerful. Raising Daniel has been one of the greatest honors of my life.
For Daniel’s Eagle project, we freed these teens who were locked in the nursery closet for several years. They had grown a few feet taller, and had survived on goldfish crackers and kept clean with hand sanitizer. They didn’t seem to be bored with the toys. They played happily with the cash register, farm toys, tools, puzzles and kitchen sets as we cleaned the area. The reunions with their parents were too precious to photograph.
The shelf installation went smoothly. Not pictured are many people who donated the materials for the project, and Daniel’s grandpa who helped him with a design and ideas. I feel very grateful for the support people showed Daniel.
The eery sunrise through smoke in the air makes the day feel ominous. We have found the familiar indentations on the path for school routines: get up, make lunches, eat breakfast, pray, run out the door, leave Mom.
I have a morning without commitments. I wonder what I should do?
I will spare you the mountain of laundry that awaits and the loss I feel for my old occupation.
I have many other enjoyable things to do today. These are just the things I don’t want to do, and they will be finished in less than 30 minutes.
That’s the good thing about tasks at home. Many can be finished in minutes.
I visited a friend earlier this year, when one of my children was going through some real trials. When she asked about my family, I shared that we were having a rough time, but no details. She leaned in and said to me, “It’s harder on the mom, I think.” It was really helpful for someone to acknowledge my pain, the pain from watching someone go through difficult experiences, even the pain of worry, anger (not for the child), and helplessness. Somehow, her words meant that I wasn’t doing it all wrong. I knew my child’s pain was greater than mine, and I couldn’t carry the child away from the trial and make everything better, so I ached inside.
While I will never share the specifics of what happened to our child, and between us, and between God and each of us, I want to share some hope, like my friend gave to me.
Chances are, you are not doing this wrong, if you are feeling pain for a child who is struggling.
Additionally, there are ways to allow the Savior to carry the pain. He is mighty to save, and so kind! One is to search for answers in the scriptures. I spent a lot of time reading the Book of Mormon, combing the passages for insights. There were many answers there. Plead for answers while partaking of the sacrament. I felt specific, clear directions during this sacred time. Pour out your soul in prayer, as often as you need it, and His help will come.
Some quotes that I needed during this difficult time:
(images from Pinterest)
Is there anything better than an older relative who spends time with you when you are little? Maybe they rescue you and help you get to shore; maybe they take time to play a child’s game, or dance with you when Grandma tells you it’s time to dance. I wish I knew how the kids learned to show such kindness and empathy. I like to think they learned it long before they came to us. I didn’t ask the kids to do these things. I really like seeing these photos of our kids being kind.
Today’s morning prayer included:
I said amen, thinking, “Did I kind of fall asleep during part of that prayer?” Realizing that I had, the thought came that if God could make the earth out of elements, he can work with a servant who is a bit dozy. Then the thought came that I needed to find my cell phone because someone needed me. I figured it would be one of my boys who had just left for school. Almost immediately after finding my phone, it lit up. Someone was calling to ask me to help. I wouldn’t have heard it because it was on silent mode. Sometimes, especially lately, I need intervention like this to know what to do because my perception feels foggy. I couldn’t have thought to call this neighbor, so she had to call me. I’m glad she felt that she could. I am grateful the thought came to find my phone.
Keep praying, all. It works.
I take this view as a tender mercy. I didn’t buy glasses to view the eclipse, didn’t make the drive to Idaho, and didn’t do anything I would normally do to engage in an experience with the kids. Richard, Daniel, and Paige all had opportunities to view the eclipse with glasses at work or on the U of U campus. We at home made a viewer out of a Cheerios box as the eclipse began and saw the tiny image of the sun in the box. As the light changed, the blue sky turned gray, and I saw hundreds of images of the eclipse dancing at our feet. Now, that was unexpected and beautiful and a lot more amazing than what we saw in our viewer.
Mark had an exciting day yesterday.
He got his middle school schedule. His trumpet arrived. He walked the halls of the middle school with his friend Adam. I helped them find their classrooms and lockers, pointing out landmarks and reminding them which floor they were on, then I stepped back and allowed them to figure things out on their own. By the end, I was no longer walking with them. They grew confident in that hour.
Overheard as I walked the halls with them:
“It’s a relief to know I couldn’t actually fit in this locker if someone tried to stuff me in.”
“This is actually not as intense as I thought it would be,” as they looked at a display in a classroom.
Mark played his first notes on the trumpet. “That sounded beautiful,” said Adam. “Yep, it did,” replied Mark. “No regrets.”
Pioneer Day in Utah is a lot more fun than Pioneer Day in other states we have lived. Mark was excited all day for the fireworks. His excitement translated into some entertaining conversation topics and extra energy to push the cart around Costco. I felt especially bothered by Costco yesterday. I could not get out of there fast enough. Does this ever happen to you? Daniel worked on the Cooking Merit Badge until he almost passed out from standing so long and maybe locking his knees. I think it may have had to do with handling raw meat, too. Note to self: cooking is a bigger service than you know. Mark made dinner, a nice ham quiche, while Daniel and I worked on dinners to freeze for an upcoming Yellowstone trip. In the evening, Paige and I drove the boys and Richard around the neighborhood in the truck, collecting the Scout flags that were displayed for the holiday. Later, we shared our sparklers with our little neighbors. “Can I have another sparkler, please?” little Andy kept asking. Thankfully, we had about a zillion of them to give. We have some serious fireworks enthusiasts on the street next to ours which we benefit from, so we have never bought aerial fireworks. This year, the favorite Ross-level firework was the “Cracker Barrel,” a tiny firework that just kept going.
Today I am working on my family reunion assignments, Church stuff, and the mudroom. But first, I sit in the trailer with the heater on as it dries out the rain that came through a zipper. This is why you are getting a post about minutiae.