It’s Monday and I’m running late. But I have to start on that list somehow. I chose to start with reading Mormon 8 of the Book of Mormon. I am nowhere near being a Spiritual Guru, not even a student. But I love studying (not reading) the Book of Mormon because it gives me comfort and peace knowing that I am not alone and forgotten. I feel the Spirit testifying that all that is written in the book is part of 0our history. I feel Moroni as once a living individual, just like you, just like me. I feel him strongly talking and his words were written from his heart. I know the book is true. Everything in it is true. It’s even more genuine than what is written about our political history. I love being a Mormon.
If humidity can melt fats, I’d be size two by now. If I can link the airconditioner to my metabolism, I’d be size two by now. Sighs.
I failed my goals today. No mantra, no meditation, no diet, and no running, no scriptures, and I even missed church. My body clock completely went to a halt. But there were good things I did today, too. Sofie made her first cucumber salad. Mikhail told me that I am the prettiest mom ever. He also added during dinnertime that I am a supermom. At the end of the day, my kids are the only ones that truly matters. They are even more important than myself. Being a widowed mom is not easy. It’s a selfless act, even more selfless than being parents. Not that I look down at double parent families, (oh my, how I envy such families!), but in most circumstance, widows never remarry. Dating must be highly considered or the kids will feel unloved. While the parent is busy with a new love affair, the kids feel inadequate.
When asked about mommy-dating, my five year old didn’t answer. Instead he asked me this, “Mom, am I not enough?”
He is more than enough to me. The journey is still long and very narrow. It is the road less taken. The path all of us dreads. Am I unlucky? Probably. But a friend of mine assured me that the Lord sees me fit for this task. The Lord knows my strength and He is anxiously waiting and cheering for me to complete this errand and come home to Him. My task in this mortal life is not to be romantic but to raise His children well. It’s something that I’m no good at but the hugs and kisses assure me that I’m doing okay singlehandedly.
And yet, I am still grieving.
All my happy moments will always be the saddest. For it is a dreadful reminder that you’re gone. Can you see that I am sad? I will always be sadder than the saddest girl in the world.
When the day passes and darkness lurks;when everyone is calmly tucked in bed; dishes done, and I hear nothing but the whisks of crickets in the night and the croaks of frogs under the timid dance of rain, the subtle cold of emptiness draws on me. How I envy time, for every tick, there’s a tock. I hear it louder and louder. The silence inside me is deafening. There’s no cure. I turned off the dimming light, and slowly set my pace into a deep sleep. I finally made it through another day.
What is good about living is the limitless count of starting over again. President Gordon B. Hinckley, prophet and seer, once affirmed that man only fails when he quits trying. So I am going to have this second take on my life. Sorrow lurks from the deepest part of me and it is NOT making me happy. Grief is devouring me. Envy is taking control of how I feel towards others. Regrets are swelling in my belly. It is no fun at all. So I decided to begin again. Easier and friendlier this time. I am befriending me. If no one seems to care for me, then I will love myself. The mind is the most powerful tool in the course of history. Allowing it to dwell in pain and brokenness limits its capacity to grow even more beautiful. I am dictating my mind to start again. One take at a time. Survival mode if I must.
Today is day one. It is 7: 36 a.m. and I’m late. 😥 I will start correcting my meals today. Listen beyond words. And offer a hand. Those shouldn’t be too hard, eh? It’s like mastering the “A” before going through all the letters in the alphabet. So, today is my “A”.