Family IS Forever

I had two experiences last week that I wanted to record, and as it is much faster to type rather than write, I'm going to use this space.

Wednesday morning, about 4am, I had a dream.  I was traveling with my kids and my mom and some of Blythe's little friends.  We were driving over a high mountain pass in the snowy cold and stopped near the summit of the mountain.  We got out, and as we were walking around, Blythe's friend Kassi tripped and hurt her ankle.  I called her mom to come meet us, and after some time waiting, making no progress on our journey and really just killing time, Kassi's parents arrived.  I wanted to get on the road and told my mom we needed to get back in the car and be on our way since Kassi was being taken care of.  She didn't feel like she could go, but I was tired of waiting and exhausted physically and just wanted to be home.  So I got in the car and drove away.

As I got down into the valley, I realized I didn't know where I was.  The surroundings reminded me of Spain, but as I was driving, I knew I couldn't be there.  I passed a small information office, and stopped to ask for directions.  When I went into the office, the man at the desk and I had a very difficult time understanding each other.  I kept telling him I needed to know the way home, and he kept acting like he didn't understand anything I was saying.  I was trying to show him on a map where I needed to be, but I didn't know exactly where I was, so I couldn't orient myself.

Suddenly, next to me, my father appeared.  He didn't speak to me.  In fact, it was as if he was ignoring me.  I said, "Dad! What are you doing here?" but he didn't respond.  He sort of bustled around the office and then walked over next to the man I was trying to get directions from.  Miraculously, the man suddenly comprehended what I needed and gave me clear and concise directions of how to get home.  He showed me on the map, pointed the routes I was to take, and encouraged me on my way.  When he was done and it was obvious I knew what I needed, Dad bustled out of the office.  Again, he didn't say anything to me and I desperately wanted a hug from him, but I knew that he had made my communications with the man at the desk possible.  He knew how much I wanted to go home and eased my way.

I woke crying and realized that Dad is involved in my life.  I can't see him or talk to him or hug him, but he wants to make sure I get home and is working from the other side of the veil to insure that happens.  He is easing my way and I felt that so profoundly as I woke from my dream.

The following day, Thursday, I went to the temple just after dropping the kids off at school.  I have been going on Wednesdays since school started, but I wasn't able to go then last week, and changed my day.  Aunt Georgianne works at the temple on Thursdays, and when I was going on Thursdays, I would see her all the time.  She was the initiatory coordinator, so I was always able to say hello and give/get a hug.  Although I was doing initiatory, positions have changed and I didn't see her when I went in.  I waited on the bench for just a moment, and was then taken into a booth randomly.  Well, not so randomly as it turns out.  I was washed, and then out of anointing came Georgianne to seal my washing.  We were both surprised to see each other, and I stood and gave her a hug.  She performed the ordinance and then we went into the anointing booth together.  She was very emotional, hardly able to speak as she performed the ordinance.  She then came into clothing with me as it was time to change places.  She and I were both very touched by the spirit as she finished off, both of us crying.

It was wonderful to be in initiatory with my favorite auntie.  I love the blessing promised during each stage of initiatory, and to hear them pronounced upon my head by someone I love and that I know loves me was very powerful.  It made me think of Grandma Hare.  Before we had Brandt, I would go to the temple on Thursday mornings with Georgianne and Grandma Hare and Aunt Beth (until her death) and sometimes Jackie.  I know Grandma Hare is busy on the other side of the veil, and I believe she is probably helping with temple work from her side.  I thought about Grandma Barnes, another active and energetic soul, and can imagine her doing temple work too.  It was just so moving to be there with family doing such critical work that brings about the binding of families forever.

And I cried, too, because Georgianne has daughters she loves even more than she loves me, and she can't go to the temple with any of them.  She's done everything right as a parent, and yet all but one of her eight children have left the church and don't participate anymore at all.  I keenly felt that loss and imagine she was thinking about it too.  But there is hope, too, that comes from temple covenants.  All of Georgianne's children have been sealed to her, and her righteousness and obedience help insure that her children will be hers for eternity.  Hope is a wonderful thing.

I was so grateful for both of these experiences, tender reminders of the eternal nature of families, and the love our Father in Heaven, as our father, has for us.  I rejoice in my sealing to Kent and the sealing of our children to us, and to know that I and we are linked to those we love very most forever.

Dishes

When, after four years, I was released as the Primary president, I was put into Young Women as the assistant laurel adviser.  I am now in charge of personal progress for the laurels.  I decided to restart personal progress myself at the beginning of the year, not only so that I would be current with what the girls should be working on, but because personal improvement can never go amiss.

I started in January and quickly realized that personal progress really prepares a young woman for life as an active Latter-day Saint woman.  So much of what the girls are expected to do as they work on and complete value experiences and projects are things I am doing right now as a wife, mother, and member of the Church.  Many of the experiences are designed to help strengthen testimony and prepare for the temple and establish good patterns that will serve the girls well into their adulthood.  Others help develop talents and learn important homemaking skills like cooking, cleaning, and organizing.  I had forgotten how applicable everything is.

Here is an example.  In Good Works, a girl is to help plan family meals, obtain food, and prepare part of the meals for two weeks.  Since January, I have fulfilled this requirement sixteen times.  I plan meals, obtain food, and prepare meals practically every night.  It is something I do every single day.  What a great skill to have a young woman work to develop.  One of the choice and accountability experiences is about budgeting and learning to prioritize needs over wants.  Again, so applicable to what I'm doing right now in my life.

I mention all of this because of a value experience I am working on this month.  I started today.  Good works experience five has you read three verses in D&C 58 about being anxiously engaged in a good cause.  Then, you are to "develop a pattern of service in your life by choosing a family member you can help.  Serve that person for at least a month."  Last night, as Kent and I were cleaning the kitchen, I apologized for once again putting dishes in the sink throughout the day without putting them in the sink, leaving the dishwasher half full, and not filling it up and running it, creating even a larger mess to contend with at the end of the day.  For some reason, I am really not good at just sticking breakfast and lunch dishes in the dishwasher.  I let them pile up and my husband is almost always the one who deals with them at the end of the day.  So last night I committed to him that for the next thirty days, my pattern to develop would be to deal with the dishes immediately and not let them pile up in the sink, thereby choosing him as the family member to serve.  I have put it a little yellow (for good works) piece of paper with GW5 on it, as a reminder to me to do my good works value experience number five and keep the kitchen cleaner.

I am happy to report, at the end of day one, all is well.  I loaded the dishwasher and did all the dishes before I sat down to write this, and I hope to be as diligent throughout the month (and beyond).

Wish me luck for continued resolve.

Real Mom

Tonight, yet again, during an argument with Blythe, she said, "You're not my real mom."  Her implication was that I don't love her.  While logically I know that Blythe doesn't really understand, and I tell myself not to let that particular sentence bother me, when she says it, it's like a knife to the heart.  It wounds me over and over again, because for Blythe, once is never enough.  She doesn't understand the absolutely horrible situation from which she was plucked by DCFS before she came to our home.  She doesn't understand that her "real" mom can't take care of herself much less Blythe and her "birth family" she talks about all the time.  She doesn't understand how unsafe, unhealthy, and unstable her life would be if she was with Key Bug.  She just doesn't understand and I can't and won't explain it to her because she is too young.  But because we have always been open with the children about being adopted, and always answered Blythe's questions honestly, she knows enough to know that there was another possibility for her life.  So when things are not going as she would like, like when I insist she clean her room, or yell at her (which I shouldn't do) for being a brat (which I shouldn't call her) during family home evening, or when she somehow feels life is unfair, she pulls out and plays the very hurtful "You're not my real mom" card.

How will we work through this?  How will I learn to deal with it better?  Blythe is adopted and we can't change that.  I can't tell her to go live with her birth mom if she thinks it would be so much better.  I can't change who she is or where she came from.  I don't want her to draw pictures of her "birth family," a picture with a mom, two daughters, and a son, and then have to say how much I like her artwork.  I don't want to have to accommodate an addict "mom" stopping by when she's having a sober moment for a play date.  I don't want to have my daughter throw it in my face every time she's unhappy with me that I'm not her "real" mom, especially when the person she thinks that is never has to deal with our difficult and headstrong child.  If I have to suffer and struggle through the constant challenge of raising Blythe, I want to at least get billing as "The Mom."

Several months ago I read a book about an adopted daughter.  She is unhappy with her mother but adores her father.  After she leaves for college, she receives a grant to go do research in India where she was born.  While there, she meets and interviews many women about their life experiences.  She comes to see how good her life has been and how fortunate she was to be adopted.  I thought of my Blythe as I read it.  She has no idea what her life could be like, and I don't want her to know.  But I hope that Blythe will come to see that as a parent, I'm not all bad.  I'm not as evil as she thinks I am.  I love her, I'm here for her all the time, I am her real mom.  And I hope it doesn't take until she's left our home for her to figure it out.  But I should probably accept that it will very likely take that long and prepare to have my heart wounded over and over again.