Skip to main content

Partial Letter to My Missionary Daughter

I'm actually having an emotionally exhausting day. An 8th grader completed suicide yesterday morning. He was a student at my junior high I went over to his house to offer condolences after church today and I implemented my super power. I say that but my super power is out of my control. I believe I am called to serve. I serve within my job. His sister answered the door, the mother, a complete stranger, came from another room and collapsed in my arms where we stood and sobbed together. Then I introduced myself but we were already best friends. 

They have a lot of support as I met some extended family, neighbors, ward members, coworkers, etc. I was introduced as being from "the school" so I decided I should be a good representative and be more detached, objective, and task oriented. Whatever. That worked for a few minutes. I took notes between sob sessions with my new best friend. 

I was not placed on the earth to check off boxes. I was placed on this earth to do exactly what I did today. But I came home exhausted, sad and grateful for my children. I wanted to hug and kiss all of them over and over again. Which did not go over so well with the teenagers. I had to back off. 

Now I will go put on pants and we will go to my parents house. By the way, I'm wearing my yoga pants which kind of count as pants.

I love you. Have a great Easter week!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Braces!

13 year old got braces today! She also had a little helper on her.
Post a Comment
Read more

They Call Me Grace

I was nearly 8 years old when my baby sister was born. This was quite fortunate since I was well adept at reading. I was tired of my name. Nancy. So plain. The Sunday comics included a comic strip called Nancy. She hung out with her stupid little boyfriend named Russell, was very boring and cried all the time. Why would parents who love their child name her such a boring name? I assumed they had run out of originality by this point. I was, after all, their third child. There was Mike, then Suzy, after me they had Joey (short for Joanne) and finally Jene Marie. The "j" a soft French slur. It was fitting. We had a French surname. But clearly Jene Marie was their crowning glory. Do I hate for taking all the love from my parents and hogging it for herself? Of course not. She's my sister. She's my baby sister. But if I happen to feel the need to speak to her when she's at work, I always ask for her by using both names; Jene Marie (with the schwa). I don't want her...
22 comments
Read more

I am being published!

I know! It just reeks of excitement, doesn't it?  I know what you are thinking. "Who would publish that woman's thoughts?" The answer is a lovely little outfit called www.blog2print.com. In other words, I haven't been discovered. I am no closer to being a published author than I was yesterday EXCEPT that by Christmas I will be the proud owner of my very own blog book! I know. It's a little anticlimactic but here's the cool part. My friend, Becki, found me entertaining and directed me to a blog called www.josikilpack.blogspot.com.  She posted a little coupon code for 20% off which was supposed to end last week. Apparently, the code is still good and I saved $14. That said, you know it isn't exactly the cheapest way to get published but it's the best price I could find on publishing my blog!  And it requires very little technical know-how.  And that, my friends, tickles my heart. And, for a small price of your integrity and dignity, I will share the ...
18 comments
Read more