Emotions

I have felt a range of emotions this week. My s-i-l and best friend called me this week and helped talk me through some of my feelings. I think that I mostly feel a longing for the family closeness that I experienced last weekend. We spent 6 days at my mom's house. I spent quite a bit of time helping my mom and just visiting with brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and with my mom. I loved that. I felt loved. Now I am home and they all went their separate ways. I feel a longing for family again. I have been calling my mom quite frequently, about every other day. I want to make sure she's doing OK, and I want to let her know that she is loved and thought about. I am glad she has Nathan to be with her.

This week was especially hard with trying to get caught up. The four older kids had tons of homework to catch up on. I had to sit down with Talon and with Jaren and get them to work on their homework. We also had a ton of laundry to wash, separate, fold, and put away. By Saturday afternoon we were pretty much caught up. Matt was sick on Thursday with a bad head cold. He had some allergies going on at my mom's house and it really took a toll on him by the time we got home. Friday he was feeling better. Saturday night we took time for a date. We went shopping for a shower door and found one on clearance at Lowe's and got something to eat. Sometimes, I just really need to get out of the house to separate myself from my responsibilities there for a few hours. We did take Elody with us.

Today at church, I walk in the chapel about a minute before sacrament meeting was to start. I opened my program and saw that the opening song was, "I am a child of God." I thought to myself, 'How on earth am I suppose to make it through this song?' The last time I heard this song was at my dad's funeral, sung by his grandchildren. That was very emotional for me. Sure enough, about half way through the first verse, the emotions kicked in. All I could do is stand there and lead the song and not sing. I tried to at least mouth the words, but I couldn't without being emotional. (I don't tear, so I don't use the word cry.) I was fine for the rest of the sacrament meeting. Then the hugs from my friends, the sisters in the ward, started coming. Then the emotions started up again. I loved the hugs. I needed the hugs. The first came from a sister who lost her husband about 7 years ago. When she says, I know how you feel, she means it and I know it. I am grateful for the caring women in my ward who cared enough to let me know that they cared. In this case I needed to hear it and feel it rather than just assume it.

I feel like we all get busy and self absorbed in our own lives. I found that I would go 2-3 weeks without talking to my parents and many months without talking to any other family. Now that we spent so much time together, I want to find ways to keep in contact with them. I like to read my nephew's wives blogs and read family members posts on facebook and even chat with them when I can. I like feeling connected to them. I love my family. :)

I have reflected back thinking about my childhood memories of my dad. I remember him only spanking me once. I hated unloading the clean dishes out of the dishwasher. I remember sassing my mom about it and running to hide in my parents' bathroom. My dad found me and spanked me once and told me to never sass my mom. I also remember how much he supported me throughout Archery. He could see that I was doing well, and bought for me my own bow and set of arrows. He came to my practices and my home meets. He also came to my state tournaments. One time he brought the camcorder and started filming me. It made me nervous and I couldn't do my best. I turned around and glared at him, s0 he turned it off and smiled at me.

Another time I was grateful for him was when I was about to be a senior in high school. I was in a bad relationship with a boy who was controlling and manipulative. One night when he was being this and having a moody night, he wouldn't take me home. We were on the temple grounds, me listening to him whine, at 2 am. Then my dad showed up. I was so glad. He brought me home. The boy had the gall to follow us and my dad walked up to his car and told him he was never to see me again. That was fine with me.

Then there was the time my parents took me to the MTC. I was totally excited and surprised to see my parents tearing. I think that was the first time I had seen my dad get emotional like that. It was sweet and endearing. The other time I saw him get emotional was when I was pregnant with my first child and my parents were getting ready to leave on their first mission. My dad gave me a very special blessing.

I also remember my parents taking Nathan and me back east to the church history sites the summer before my senior year in high school. I was very impressed with the Hill Cumora pageant. I felt like I finally understood the complete story of the Book of Mormon. We had read it over and over as a family, but I just didn't get it most of the time. I then studied it in Seminary my senior year. Having seen the pageant really helped my to understand it and gain a testimony of it.

When I was in my second year of college and in a young adult ward, I was given the calling of being a gospel doctrine teacher. I would call my dad Saturday or even Sunday morning and go over the lesson I was suppose to teach. That calling terrified me and the only way I survived it was with the help of my dad.

I didn't grow up having a grandpa. I am glad that at least some of my kids will remember my dad. His legend will live on. He was a great example to his children and grandchildren. He read the scriptures diligently. The pages were covered in red and yellow markings and post it notes. He taught us to remember our Savior Jesus Christ in our prayers, in bearing testimony, and in our Family Home Evenings.

I loved my dad and will remember him always.