JOURNAL OF THE HEART

I had a wonderful and memorable evening with my wonderful son. As he is leaving in just a few short months for two years, I am taking EVERY chance I get to spend time with him, and how I cherish these hours—reading scriptures together...doing dishes...just talking. It is quite unbelievable to me that our mother-and-son time is coming to an end—an end at least as I know it. It is such a bitter sweet time in life, my last baby for ever. I will never enjoy more, will never add to my little flock. It is such an innate thing that the Lord has put within us to bear children, to collect them under our wings, to protect them. When this season closes around us, it is all but impossible to shut off the feelings and the intrinsic nature inherent to our souls.

In years past, I could listen as others spoke of these very things. I could sympathize, but I could never empathize as I so keenly do now. What a mind-boggling period of life—even of motherhood. In retrospect, it went in the twinkling of an eye. My child raising years are but a memory now. Just under a year ago, those responsibilities, and I term it thus simply due to a deficiency in my present vocabulary, came to an abrupt end. It came not as a surprise but rather as confusion. It was a great relief—it is a great sorrow. I don’t want to be done. It isn’t fair. I don’t want to forever be without my babies—those little people who for so many years have been under my care. Yes, indeed, they are and always will be my babies, nonsensical as it may sound. I thought silly the women who spoke such words just a few short years ago. Certainly they aren’t babies any more I would think. No, but now and only now, do I feel the sharp-edged emotions those ladies must have then felt. It is hard, to say the least, to move forward…though I will.

Sweetness resides in our adult relationships, which I treasure with each of my children. The humor they bring about in my life…the joy they cause in my heart…the mature natures to which they have attained…I relish all of these beautiful qualities in the people I raised up. Bitterness is inherent in letting them go—in being forced to concede—in not desiring to do so. It is not in my timing; it just is.

My sweet little Elliott, who every few feet through the mall, wanted to stop and pray when he was but a wee small boy. That handsome little blonde-haired man who touched my heart—his own so tender. My how it aches…no…stabs—as I see the brevity of our time together. Two years is long, but it can be endured. Forever, though, is not so easy to swallow. He will return but for a short time at his mission’s close and then a move to Utah to attend BYU. In search of his eternal mate will then be his mission then forward into the new life they will create.

These thoughts quite possibly pour out onto the page as pitiful contemplations to the unknown reader. Yet, to me they are real…all too real. It comes to all, I know. We endure…we move on. Some even rejoice in their new found freedoms. I mourn. I knew this time would arrive; I just never knew it would come so fast and hurt so bad. I am indeed thankful to my Father in Heaven who chose me as the mother to these wonderful beings. I am grateful that I have been blessed by their lives…have grown from them…have learned from them. A small thing really as compared to many trials that I could have, and I am fully aware of this fact. Many mothers lose their sons to the prowess of war—-some to accident—-others to addiction. I am truly blessed. The realness of this “little” thing, however, does indeed tax my heart and my emotions.

I am proud of these babies who have grown to fine young adults. I am honored to be called their mother.

Our fun mess--Elliott teaching himself the keyboard--Me crafting





My boy...