It’s Been Three Years
It’s been three years, and by some divine miracle, I have realized I’m happy again.
I think of you often mom, I always will. Lately I’ve been thinking about what I’ve learned the last 3 years. I know you have people that need you, you always have, but can you stay long enough for me to tell you about them?
I give all credit to God, and I am thankful beyond words.
1- God really does want us to be happy, even after he asks us to do hard things for him. I’m not talking just existing with a few pleasant experiences happy, but bubbling over to the brim with joy.
2- God puts people in our paths exactly when we need them. I can’t even begin to tell you the people I’ve met mom, although I’m sure you already know–maybe even had a hand in my meeting them? Thank you then, because they’ve all been the sweetest blessing.
3- Time heals wounds we can’t heal ourselves. I honestly didn’t know if I would ever get my innocence — , the freedom to be joyful, my easy smile and sparkling eyes — all of that pure happiness back. You left a hole mom, and it was pretty dang impossible to fill. I think it wasn’t mine to fill in the first place. Maybe God needed me to quit trying so hard and just let it be so he could slowly fill it as I was ready?
4-Life can be so much fun. Nothing has gone the way I planned it to go mom, but I am so glad it didn’t! I love my families: my work family, my ward family, my Orem family, my blood family, all of it. Maybe I’ll quit making so many plans, God’s always include more fun anyways.
5- The Gospel is true and it is oh so good. Thank you mom, for raising me the way you did. Thank you for patiently loving me when I was such a bratty teenager, and letting me find my testimony on my time and terms. This is the greatest gift you could have given me, the beginning of my knowledge of the Gospel and God’s love for everyone.
6- Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, masking, pushing it aside, letting go, or brushing it under the rug. Moving on means moving forward with it, recognizing the pain when it is there but also recognizing the joy that comes right along with it. This life is so good mom, I feel so blessed to still be here to live it.
I want to help them mom, the others. The 19-year-old kids who are scared out of their minds, realizing for the first time in their lives their parents are mortal. I want to help the 30-year-old adults, with kids of their own, wondering how on earth they can be a happy parent when they are forced to lose one of their one.
And mom, oh mom, I want to help the little ones too. I want to help the young kids, the ones whose smiles will be a little too strained a little too early. I want them to know they can have their youth, their innocence, their energy back. I’m just not quite sure how I’m supposed to do all of that.
The sunflowers are out mom, they’re beautiful like always. They still remind me of you, every single time. I tell other people mom, about how happy they are and if a flower could give hugs, a sunflower would.
I love you mom. I’ll see you again sometime, but for now I’ve got a whole big life ahead of me, and I am happy I get to live it.