Hard Days=Happy Days

This post is mostly for me. I wanted to be able to record my feelings. I don't like to be so public with my feelings, even in my own journal I have a hard time writing about my true emotions. I keep my emotions so tight that its hard to let anything out. But I need to have a reminder of my thoughts and feelings of this day. After much time, anticipation, hesitation, anger, joy and finally acceptance we started my mom's Temple work last night. Matt and I accompanied the youth to the Medford Temple to assist in baptisms. We have been planning this for quite some time. It didn't seem quite as significant in the days preceding, maybe I was numb, I'm good at that, or maybe it's just hard to imagine the feelings you will have about something so important until it comes. Maybe both. It was a struggle for me to move forward with this process because it is one of the most blunt ways of saying "yes, my mom is dead" there is no pretending, I can't tell myself she's just gone for awhile, or I just haven't seen her in forever. Doing her work means she's really dead and that is hard. I have been praying that something magical would happen to let me know that she was there, that she accepted it, that she loves me, that she knows me. I was hoping, really hoping for one of those crazy experiences where I see her or here her. Something. Anything. The longer she is gone the harder it is to feel her. I remember her always. But they are the same memories and rarely have emotions attached to them. I remember her like I remember someone in a movie but every so often I feel her. She was real, she was my mom, she did love me, she loves me still. I can smell her, and hear her, and feel her, not physically like she's touching me, but emotionally. I feel the feeling of her, I wish that I could feel that all the time. Her laugh, her smell, the feel of her embrace. It is a hard thing to explain but when it hits me it takes my breath away. It is powerful and private and painful but so worth it. I find myself praying for these moments often. The prayers seem to go unanswered but I know they are not...these moments come when I am not begging for them, they come all on their own and I cherish them. Last night I was needing one of these moments. I was irritable before we got to the Temple, which happens often when I'm sad. I don't like sharing my feelings when I'm sad, even with Matt, I feel like it somehow takes away from the realness of it, so instead I get snappy or quite. Once we got to the Temple though, I felt calm. I felt right, and although I did not get my "magic" I certainly felt the feeling of her strongly. She was an amazing mom-something I might not have told her enough-she did so much for us, she loved us, she supported us, she laughed with us and cried with us. She protected us. I have felt a lot of guilt and sadness that I did not have the power or strength to protect her in the way that I feel sure she would have protected me. Last night though I felt a release. I have given back to her all that I can. I have begun to do her Temple work and what better way can I thank her and love her than that. I had a dream not long after she died. We were walking in the grocery store holding hands. My mom was looking at some juice. I asked her if she could drink juice where she was. She told me not to worry. I started to cry as we were heading for the check out. I knew that we would soon have to say goodbye, that she would be leaving again. The check out lady looked at me and said not only can you buy bread but you can give the bread of life. And then my mom was gone. I feel like I have finally done that, I have given her all that I can, I have done my part-the beginning of it anyway. For selfish reasons I waited, but I needed to be ready. I needed to let go of that small part of me that still hopes she's going to knock on my door someday and say sorry that she's been gone so long. I had to move past that, accept that, yes, doing her Temple work makes it real to me that she is not coming back. I did it. It felt right. The magic was that there was no magic. It was just an amazingly simple, spiritual experience, that was perfectly fitting for my amazing, simple, mom. As we left the Temple I felt full and at peace. Someday I will see my mom again. I have hope.