Category: Adventurous kids

Tears and status as a child of Heavenly Parents

I saw a funny post on social media about how to take your child to college. It was a picture of a mother wearing sunglasses with a piece of tissue wedged beneath each lens. Yes.

When I think of the many tears I cried as I anticipated Paige leaving home, I realize now that this was a little indulgent. Going to college was such a positive thing for her, and memories are not lost when a child leaves. In fact, memories improve with time. Yet those tears were part of my own steps to grow in understanding.

During the turbulent weeks of uncertainty leading to Daniel’s evacuation from his mission during Covid lockdowns and international borders closing, I felt so much fear, but now I know there was no danger. Yet that anguish and loneliness were understood and met as I prayed and meditated during those awful weeks. These were the weeks when I really learned about the ministering of angels.

The tears for Tim’s growing up have arrived. Perhaps these tears will seem unnecessary when I look back on them, and surely this ache I feel should be tempered with experience and perspective, but I can’t always be reasonable. I don’t feel less with time, I might actually feel more. Certainly, each experience of preparing children to leave home is unique and each child is loved so individually. How can I possibly think that I have any of this “down” and handle it any other way?

While my tears and feelings of loss may be like a child’s fear, unfounded and illogical, these are times when I learn the most about my children and my own status as a child of God.

I am loved enough that God sends help when I think there is danger, even when He knows there is no danger. He sends comfort when I fear things that He knows are unreasonable. Our Heavenly Parents understand our feelings because they have loved and said goodbye to each of us and know all about this part of the experience. Through tough goodbyes, I am given a gift of discernment to know how special each child is, not just to me, but to a larger circle than I can see.

Like old times

Mark and Tim won’t be required to wear masks at school next week. Someday these masks will seem distant, and our boys have had to wear them the most, as they attended school in person 4 days a week during the school year.

Richard and I enjoyed Mark’s first and only in-person band concert since 2019. He plays the trumpet as a freshman in an audition band. We couldn’t choose a favorite piece they played, we enjoyed them all. We have been allowed to go to many events at the high school this month, and aside from the masks on our faces, it is just like old times. It’s an encouraging sign of better days to be able to walk into the high school and cheer for our kids again.

Tim’s recent feats of skill

This blurry photo is about like my experience watching senior awards night through teary eyes. The choir sang And So It Goes by Billy Joel, and when seniors sing at graduation time, every word seems more poignant.

During his senior year, Tim served on the seminary council and was the Instrumental Music Sterling Scholar. He worked hard in his landscaping business and restored old Fiats.

He made this beautiful furniture. 😍

He is always bringing home surprises.

We are proud of him!

Symbols

If I could choose a symbol for Tim right now, it would be his stack of work shirts on laundry day. It’s a point of contentment for me to know he works hard.

Another symbol might also be his 1980 Fiat Spider. Right now the car is an empty shell as Tim installs new carpet and paints the interior. It’s a daunting project, but he is chill about it. He knows how to work and have fun.

Tim has a regional woods competition this week. I can’t wait to show you his finished cabinet and bed. They are beautifully made.

Tim’s Senior Prom

It’s been a long time since the high school has held a dance. To attend, each person had to take a Covid test the day before Prom, and Tim and several of his friends since elementary school went together. They have changed a lot, but I still see their little faces in my mind. I love looking at these pictures and observing each personality.

Things we do when we anticipate a goodbye

Tim spoke in church and it was the longest I have heard his voice in years. He keeps it all to himself, the humor, the insights, the excellence. Some people just don’t show a need for approval, and he is the most independent person I have ever known. In only one class has he asked for help. Even when we were homeschooling, he would take his work to his room and do it alone. I came home from church and took a personal video of the recording of church services so I can hear his voice and his testimony whenever I need it, and I hugged him up and told him how proud I am of him.

Richard went on a trip to Moab with friends over the weekend, and our dog, traumatized by the separation, found a place in his suitcase as he unpacked on Saturday night.

We all self-soothe in some way about anticipated separations. I make a recording and the dog tries to stow away. I have found 3 gray hairs during my life so far. All have happened around the time of high school graduations.

Spring Break?

Spring Break happened, but we didn’t travel. I put miles on the car going back and forth to shuttle Mark to be with cousins. I finally visited an antique mall in Springville and purchased some beautiful plates there. I sewed with friends one afternoon, and I think that I drove our cross-country-road-trip-conversation about funerals.

I spoke in a leadership meeting at stake conference, which is a rare opportunity, so I dedicated each morning of Spring Break to writing and practicing my delivery. When the meeting was over, I rested on the couch and didn’t move for a long time. Richard watched a miniseries, The Woman in White with me. He worked in the yard all weekend.

Daniel enlisted Paige to illustrate something for a biology project. Tim worked so much on his landscaping job that we rarely saw him. Two more of us received a vaccine for COVID-19.

Our dog has ailments, then rallies.

Today everyone is back to routines: school, work, music, etc. but I am lagging. On Mondays you usually find me at my best, but I need a rest from the “break” we had last week from routine.

Happy 12th Birthday to the Blog

Here we are on Easter. There is Richard who spent the day preparing food in his smoker, wearing one of his many blood donation shirts. I rushed into the day without thinking about doing my hair (typical), but tried to set the table beautifully and have a clean kitchen. Mark wears his favorite color and will go on to eat more than anyone sitting at this table. Tim teases us with the BYU shirt and remains mysterious about his plans for the future. I’ll add that he is so strong from his landscaping work. I notice that Daniel is wearing a new version of the teal and white shirt he loved and wore all through high school and his mission. He’s almost finished with his first year at BYU, and his friend, the lovely McKenna joins us at the table. Paige is effortlessly elegant and happy, and has spent the last year since graduating from BYU settling into working as a freelance illustrator. And there is handsome, hardworking, and smart Michael, who changed jobs this year and is enjoying more sleep (even in April… he’s an accountant).

The blog is less about our children than it used to be, but they remain the ones who occupy our thoughts and conversations. They are still the focus of our energy and time, and when they linger at Sunday dinner as they did this week, I can draw from that happiness for a long time.

Some of you have read this blog from the beginning. There are 1,919 posts in the archives. I owe you a diploma or something, not that I have anything figured out except perhaps how to muster a tiny bit of faith. To each reader, whether you have read for years or months, I send my love to you.