To my love

My alarm sings, “Another One Bites the Dust,” for about 10 seconds before my mind becomes aware of a newly forming bruise from my sweet heart.  Okay this wasn’t this morning, but it is many and for all those that have to deal with a spouse that can’t awake even if the building was crumbling to the ground around the plush bed, my wife sympathizes for you.  Actually I should be the one sympathizing for those that wake up with bruises due to their inability to escape the dreams of a soft pillow.  I don’t sympathize with those that wake up with bruises, behind the steering wheel of the car (trying to determine if it is even theirs) after their last purchase on Black Friday; honestly you shouldn’t of stayed in that line, outside Best Buy, with the crazy haired, lunatics that leave their house twice a year (the other being the 4^th of July when they get to blow up what they bought last November), for the 64 inch 3-D television that will probably be extinct in two years anyway, just in time for you to spend a night outside for another.  Yes I've done that; well I guess not for a 64 inch T.V. actually just to say in the future that I've done that...pathetic.

Okay so this blog isn’t about the pains of an unconscious mind struggling through the first waking moments of a bitter/sweet new day.  Actually, it is more on the romantic side.  You see this is the 19^th of October…or at least it is on the West Coast.  What’s the significance of that, honestly I have no idea, however it does seem like a great time to talk about Her.  Oh yes that one with the capital H.  Not Tonya Harding, even though my wife learned today that she learned how to skate at the ice rink located at the Lloyd Center in Portland.  No this is about my wife.  You see this person is truly the love of my life.  Indeed you can toss out the Math books, throw away the pension plans (of course with our society that is already happening), and yes even get rid of all my video games; because none of that compares to the beauty that is in my life.

I have been reflecting on the joy…and bruises…(okay so I really have never received a bruise from her in my life, please don’t be contacting the battered husband hotline in my behalf) this evening.  She is out spending some quality time with friends, at a fitness camp thing (whatever happened to just going to the movies), this evening and my daughters are out with their Aunt and Uncle…thus in the silence of my home my thoughts wander to her.  Each of you should be envious.  This woman is worth more than the fracking oil from North Dakota (I just wanted to use that word outside Battlestar and almost in a correct sentence).  She is so caring and considerate to me and for some odd reason loves me for who I am and not for how many Big Macs I can bench press (about 470 by the way).  Most of all she loves our children and loves to teach them right and wrong.  She really is truly the one for me and will be forever.  And for that I post my love for her.

Anguish of the Soul

My tears fell like the rain drops from the sky.  I shouted to the heavens above wishing that the God I believed in would listen to me.  However, I know it was for naught, at least in this mortal realm.  I like Hamlet in anguish cried “for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come.”  And so my anger was here, my dread, and my sadness. 

I had the opportunity to watch the priesthood session of general conference from April of 1983.  Jeffrey R. Holland, while President of BYU was speaking.  My wife sat next to me as I started the next talk, his son, who followed him.  Luckily she got up and left the room before Matthew S. Holland completed his talk.  I didn't want her to see the tears I shed and for the next hour would continue to shed, while shouting to a God who I wanted so desperately to listen to me.  I know her trials and her attitude toward a talk yesterday.  I didn't need her to see me in my anguish of soul.

But here I am, writing it down, for all the world to see and undoubtedly for her to read.  Why you may ask did I shed tears upon the closing of his remarks.  For he, a mere 18 year old boy, speaking to five million members said about his father, “I can honestly say we are the best of friends, and it is my fervent hope and prayer that everyone can have such a father-son relationship.”  (https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1983/04/muddy-feet-and-white-shirts?lang=eng).  Yet why do I cry for those words. 

I guess it stems back to 1991.  For me as a twelve year old, the dawn of my life as a priesthood holder, had to begin down a path of longing.  I had to deal with a divorce of my Mom and Dad.  I was ordained by my Grandpa only to have him escape the “the heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks That Flesh is heir to.”  Yes he passed away and I suffered a loss of not one but two Father figures in my life.  It wasn’t until I was 19 that my Father would come back into my life.  Sure there was the solid figure of my Uncle Ken, he taught be how to be a hard worker.  I will be forever grateful that he was there for me and I can never express, to him, the magnitude, of how much he means to me.  However, I didn’t have the father figure with the priesthood in my life.  Of course I’m overjoyed with my Father now; however, during my teenage years I would often shout out “why hast thou forsaken me.”

Fast forward to 2011 and therein lies the bitter end, of a chance for me, in this mortal realm, to be an example to my Son.  Thus my tears fell and in anguish I cried to heaven.  A heaven that I felt has forsaken me at times.  To hear a son say that he wished “that everyone can have such a father-son relationship,” pained me. 

After 2007 and 2010 I still had hope, but the door is closed now.  I know I have two wonderful girls with me right now.  I know that I am so much luckier than those that can’t have kids at all.  I know that there is a possibility of adoption.  However, I won’t have a son; one of my own blood; with my intelligence and humility haha.  I feel foolish sometimes with that wish, but it is a sorrow I have to deal with.  I know that there are probably thousands like me in similar circumstance and it is hard for me to find the comfort that I need at times. 

And so I shouted, I cried, I screamed, I cried…and yes it all occurred while I was in the shower washing my tears away.  True, my afflictions are not as bad as Job.  What can I do more?  Oh we shall see and hopefully one day I will feel that joy that I so desperately want here on earth.  I continue to strive to be better.  And I continue to cherish that lovely woman who has come into my life and bears my burdens with me.  The spiritual giant in my life that teaches my children the scriptures so well.  Yes we will hold each other and cry with each other and hopefully one day will be healed.  There will be happy days ahead.