A Hard Day

Yesterday morning after getting all the troops off to school, I headed out for my run. I love Tuesdays, by the way. I love being home, love working around my house, love getting errands done, love getting "caught up" and being with the kiddos. And I love that I can work out at 8:00 am when those kiddos are all safely in class instead of working out at the crack of no dawn (yes, it is still so dark and cold in those wee hours before everyone wakes). I like Fridays and Saturdays for that same reason too, but the weekend always seems to bring so much busyness along with it. So I'm pretty sure that Tuesdays are my favorite days.

Anyway....I ran hard and felt better than I have in weeks. It's nice to finally feel like my lungs are coming back. I still had to use my inhaler when I was done, but I finally feel like I can breath again. After cooling down, I came upstairs with my big glass of ice water in my favorite red cup, ready to head to the shower. As I walked by Barrett's room - conveniently located right at the top of the stairs - I noted that her door was mostly closed, which seemed a little unusual. As I opened it, I smiled knowingly at an un-made bed, assuming that was the reason for her closed door. So I decided that it was a good day to change the sheets and began stripping the bed. And then I saw it.

I'm in her room everyday for one reason or another, and I've seen her magnet board a million times, but still - as I looked at her board - really looked at it - I was overcome with a big wave of gratitude. And love. Truly, I felt blessed to be the mama of our sweet and fun-loving Barrett Ally, who is blossoming into a young woman, trying so hard to choose the right and be a good friend and make good choices. This is her board:

Of all the great young women handouts, inspiring quotes, and other things pinned up on her board my favorite attachment was undoubtedly the well-worn temple recommend, which she uses often. Most weeks, actually. Sure, she makes daily mistakes (just like we all do) and sometimes makes me crazy with her night-owl thing and then dragging so much the next morning. And sometimes I worry that I'm too hard on her or expect too much from her as our oldest child. We moms rely on our older ones so much - how would we ever survive without them? But I hope she knows how crazy I am about her and that I love her to infinity and beyond...and back. She's such a good girl. Truly, I am blessed to be her mom.

But a couldn't finish this post yesterday - as much as I wanted to. I was conflicted in my emotions and gratitude about being such a lucky mom as I tried to reconcile those feelings with how another wonderful mother in my ward must be feeling. One of my dear friends - my visiting teacher, the piano teacher of my kids, the choir director that I am blessed to work with in my calling - tragically lost her oldest son yesterday morning. I can't even imagine her grief. My friend had just gotten the news not long before I showed up for Afton's piano lesson. As I pulled up to drop Afty off, there were a few cars in front of her house and a sign on the door that we couldn't make out, but soon saw that it said, "No piano lessons today." Just then, her next door neighbor - our relief society president and a good friend of mine also - came running out to intercept me. She gave me the sad news and we cried together as we talked about what we might do to help. I was heartbroken for my friend and for the wife and and two little sons that her son left behind.

Oh my goodness, what a hard day. Just a couple of months ago during one of our monthly visits, this good mom broke down in tears as she told me about the struggles her son was facing and what a trial they were going through in their family. We cried together that day and I have prayed for her countless times in the months since then. I have thought about that sweet visit often as I see her. Even on Saturday, after my parenting class that I taught, she and I visited briefly and I again thought of our visit a couple months back. Then today, when I got into work, I listened to a voice mail message from her that she had left for me yesterday morning (before she learned of her son's death) asking me if I could bring some soup for our RS meeting next week.

I am grateful for the knowledge I have of a loving Redeemer who atoned for our sins and our grief. I am grateful to know that his mercy will have to be enough in this difficult time as he bridges the gap between our capacities and deeds and what is ultimately required to return to Him. Keep this sweet family in your prayers.