Five Year Anniversary

I have been walking around this week sad and emotional. Any little setback is affecting me way more than it should. I kept trying to figure out what is causing this response, when I realized that this is the week. Saturday was five years since my precious box of firecrackers left this earth. How could it be five years? In one way it feels like yesterday and in others it feels like so long ago.

A week ago in church a teenage girl was wheeled into the chapel, down the aisle and parked in the row just in front of us. I spent the hour switching between basking in the glow of her mother's love for her and wallowing in my self-pity. The story of this beautiful girl is similar to Katie's, but with a very different ending. She, too, was on vacation when tragedy struck.  Similar to our family story, they were stuck hundreds of miles from home while the family went through the scariest time in their lives. The teenage girl was in an accident and  had to have surgery on her spinal column. She made it through and by all accounts her recuperation was miraculous.

I sat in the pew behind her and her mother last Sunday, weeks after her accident, and thought, "Why can't that be me?" I watched as the mom leaned over to gently tuck her sweater tightly over her daughter's bare arms, and I was jealous. When this brave girl got up to bare her testimony with her back brace tightly secured, I couldn't breathe as she discussed the prayers and faith that got her through the beginnings of her trial.

Even after five years, I still have those moments when I just can't take it. It's not fair. We prayed, we had faith, yet my daughter didn't come home.

However, the joy and knowledge of the gospel that radiated from this young lady, couldn't be turned to bad. I sat with tears streaming down my face, but they weren't sad tears. This young lady has a purpose here on earth, her life experiences will touch the hearts and testimonies of those around her for many years to come. And that is a similarity that I am happy to share with this family. My Katie is not here anymore, but I continue to hear of how her example and life has touched hearts. I know that my testimony has been strengthened by the trial that we still endure and I pray that others around us can feel the joy and knowledge of the gospel that Katie shares with others through our faith and trust in our Heavenly Father.

Fallen Heroes

There are heroes all around us falling to the mistakes of their humanity. People like Lance Armstrong and Oscar Pistorius have fallen hard in the eyes of their admirers.  This got me to thinking about my own personal heroes. I’ve never been one to look up to sports or media stars; my heroes have always been those around me.

Most people go through the autonomy phase when they are teens. Believe me, I did my share of rebelling, but I have always looked up to my mom and tried to gain her approval. I have said many times that if I can be as good a mother as she is, I would be doing pretty well.

I’m not naïve and I know that my mom is human. She makes mistakes and does things I don’t agree with, but it wasn't until this Christmas that I realized that I tend to agree with her impulsively.

I’m sure that much of these feelings grow from the fact that we are very similar. It’s rare to find a subject that we disagree on and our personalities are so alike that we were able to drive across country, just the two of us, and thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. As I grow and mature, I discuss my choices and difficulties with her, and it seems we make many of the same decisions.

So it was a shock to me when, this December, my siblings and their spouses were discussing a recent scenario, and I realized that maybe my mom is not always right. It was almost as if my eyes were literally opened.  Hmm, maybe mom was wrong, I thought, after all, no one is perfect. As strange as it sounds, it was the first time that I can remember actually choosing to see a point of view different from my mother’s.

Lucky for me, I never expected my mom to be perfect and this realization didn't make her fall in my eyes. It actually made me more secure in my roles of daughter and mother. It gave me the permission to respectfully question my mom’s actions. And even better than that, it gave me the courage to emulate her even more. I know I can do my best in every situation and when I make mistakes, it’s okay. Mom isn't perfect and neither am I.

“The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise.”- Alden Nowlan

 I don’t know if I am wise yet, but each day that I learn to accept the humanity in those around me and forgive myself for not being better than they, I get a little closer.

Thanks, Mom, for not being perfect.