One long year

 What a year.   A really long, hard year.  One year ago I had seven kids still at home, a dad, and a grandpa.

I haven't seen my kid in a year, Aubrey is staying at college for the summer, and it has been 11 months since I last talked to my dad.

The last time I saw all my kids together was on Joel's birthday last year.  Abram was leaving at 4AM the next morning, so it was a very bittersweet birthday for Joel--he got to blow out the candles and open some presents, but my heart was definitely not in it.

When Abram left, lots of people would say, "Oh, it goes by so fast."  But I had one good friend who said, "Don't listen to anybody.  It doesn't go by fast.  It just sucks."  Yep.

I thought waking up the kids to say goodbye to Abram at 4AM on May 1st last year was the hardest thing I had ever done.  It was so hard to send my kid away for two years, and to see all of his little siblings crying because he really is the best brother ever and we would all miss him.  But I knew I had to let him go, and there was truly no other place I would rather have him be than on a mission.

Letting Abram walk away into the airport last year was so hard.  But that was nothing.  I discovered six weeks later that some things are much harder than that.

Like when you get a call telling you that your amazing, perfect, fun, healthy, fit dad unexpectedly passed away and nobody knows why.   Suddenly having Abram gone was not a big deal.  I would see him in two years.  My dad was gone from this earth forever.  Heartaches all hurt, but my dad dying hurt more than anything I have ever experienced, and more than anything I could have imagined.  All of these trials absolutely brought me to my knees, and only through Christ's atonement, and the comforting of the Holy Spirit was I able to get through.  Speaking at my Dad's funeral was the hardest thing I have ever done.  It should have been impossible.  But with God's help, I made it through actually sort of coherently at that.  The night before the funeral I did not sleep at all.  But whenever I would be on the point of tears and sadness, my heart would suddenly fill with the most powerful love and peace I have ever known.  All night long I thought, I felt, but I did not cry.  I truly was being comforted by heavenly power.

I heard a description of courage this year that really struck me.  Courage is doing what you have to do when there is no other option.  Absolutely.  I learned to be courageous this year.

Anyway, Abram is awesome.  It is not a big deal that he is gone now, and the real heart-wrenching of him first leaving is just a faint memory.  The time has not gone fast for me, but each weekly email from him makes everything worth it.  Tomorrow he will be 20 years old, and he is in very good hands with his Mexican family who are planning to make the day special for him.  I am so grateful that he has people who love him all around him.

Aubrey has plentiful opportunities for work this summer in her college town.  She is happy and enjoying her independence living off campus.  She is appreciative and grateful for everything we have given her or taught her.  What more could I want?

My mom always used to say, "Life is hard, and then you die."   My grandpa used to say, "Kwicherbellyakin!"  I always knew to never expect life to be a cakewalk, and that things would always be hard.  There is no easy road, and everything we go through is part of making us who we are, and who we need to be to eventually return to our father in heaven.  I have tried to remember that over this past year.  I hope I am a little stronger, a little kinder, and a little more resilient than I was one year ago.

But I still miss Abram.  And Aubrey.  And my dad.  And my grandpa.  But they are all where they need to be.  And I am here where I need to be, trying to make each day awesome and memorable for five awesome kids I still have at home.