From My Small Window

I don't know if the fact that so many of my posts lately have taken on a more somber note is a reflection of a maturing and deepening trend that I am experiencing or if I am just slipping into a nasty depression that threatens to engulf my very being. I guess only time will tell. But I apologize upfront if this post is on the down side. Sometimes it just works out that way.

Have you ever had to (or just did whether it was warranted or not) discipline a child pretty severely to the point that they are crying and everyone is upset? It is probably one of my least favorite things about being a parent. Especially if I look back and realize that my actions were actually more than the infraction called for. Anyway, more than once, I have been coming down on one child and another child will begin crying for their brother or sister, even though they are completely not involved. They will beg for mercy for their sibling even if the sibling is being punished for something they have done to them. It is one of the tenderest and yet most gut wrenching things to have happen to you. At least to me anyway. I mean I feel so thrilled that my one "innocent" child is feeling such compassion for their sibling and yet if the punishment or lecture is justified, it has to continue. If it isn't justified, I stop and feel like a complete idiot. But that isn't my point. My point is that the one child doesn't understand what is happening fully and sees only the pain being felt by their brother or sister. It doesn't mean they stop loving me. Just in that instant, they want the unhappiness or pain to stop because it seems so unjustified. Today, I feel a little like that other child.

A good friend of mine has three young kids. One of them is special needs. A couple of years ago, his wife was diagnosed with cancer. They had treated her and all was well. Until she felt ill last night and went to the Emergency Room. The cancer has returned and it has spread. I haven't spoken to him and I don't know the prognosis, but it sounds eerily similar to what my mother experienced and so my experiences have taught me this will not end well.

And here is where I struggle. I know all the platitudes about our trials making us stronger and each person has things they need to learn in this life, but seriously, I don't get what the hell good it does for those kids to lose their mom. I don't get it now any more than I got it nine years ago when my brothers-in-law lost their dad just as they were facing their trying teen years. From my limited perspective, it seems so unfair. I also know all the doctrine and realities of families being sealed together and the strength we are supposed to derive from that knowledge. And I am very thankful for it. Without it, an extremely difficult situation would quickly go to paralyzing for me. But the hard facts remain that faith and strength don't have arms to hold anyone with. I look at my daughters and realize my faith would come up way short when it comes to facing life. They need their mom. I mean really need their mom. I am so inadequate. But there are so many daughters who don't have that luxury. And I don't understand why. I hope someday I do. Because I don't mean to be flippant here, but that would be the eternal equivalent of not being given answers to certain aspects of Lost after devoting six years to it and just being left with "figure it out yourselves." I will be highly disappointed should this be the case.

Ok, now that I have gotten that all out, I need to follow that up with how much I have been blessed by the same God I am expressing some frustration with. I have been blessed far beyond what I deserve. And I wouldn't even say that I am frustrated with God, just frustrated by my perceived inequity of it all. Maybe I am feeling guilt. Because at this point, I don't have to deal with the issues my friend does. I fervently pray I never do. It is similar to my feelings after 9/11. I mourned and expressed my sorrow for all of those who were lost, but secretly I thanked God that it wasn't me or my family or anyone we knew. And because I felt that way, I felt guilty. I didn't love my fellow man enough to be willing to take their pains for them. I would have run from them.

Which, I guess, coming full circle helps me gain a greater appreciation for my Savior. He was willing and He did.

I don't have a pithy ending for this post. I don't have a statement that ties it all up nicely with a good little moral lesson for us all to ponder on. There are too many emotions at play for me. This news coincides with a small and insignificant event that took place last night. I had out some photo albums and Kate opened them. There was a picture of my mom and Shannon said, "Look, there is grandma." Kate looked at her confused, because grandma is my mother-in-law, not my mom. This news today taps into one of my biggest fears regardless of which side of the coin I would fall on. It is just almost more than I can bear. And if I feel this way, why should he and his wife feel any different. The difference is, they have to deal with the realities, while I only have to deal with the possibilities. I will have nightmares about this. I always do.