Joy, Grief, Coveting, Laughter

Life is good. I really believe this, from the very core of who I am. Life is good. Even in the most difficult times we are meant to have joy.

Now, I'm not trying to say that I'm going through one of my most difficult times. Difficult yes, but also joyous.

And it's interesting to be where I am right now. I feel like I am skirting the edges of so many different experiences as I dance my dance along the different roads of life.

First, there's my sister. She's amazing. Have I ever told you how amazingly wonderful my sister is and how very much I love her? Well she is. And I do. I could (and probably will) write a whole post about how fantabulous my sister is.

And guess what? The most exciting thing has happened. Someone else has seen in her all of the beauty and wonder and joy that I have always seen in her. And so he asked her to marry him.

Hooray!

Yep, that's right. My little sister and long-time best friend will be getting married at the end of July. I am so excited for her that I could burst.

And then...

It's also bittersweet. Already I miss her. She is busy getting ready for her wedding and moving and finding an apartment and, and, and... And she just doesn't need me anymore the way she did. My kids and I are not used to sharing her. Not used to having her talk to someone else when she's sad, excited or just feeling talkative. So, it's an adjustment, as some of the best things are. After all, I've prayed for this. I have prayed for her to find someone who would adore her for the amazing woman she is and who would love and care for her the way she loves and cares for everyone else.

Her fiance is wonderful. Deserving. Like I said, I'm thrilled to bursting -- 99.9% of the time.

And then there's hurting. Someone else I love very dearly is struggling with depression and dependency.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I loathe with a fury inexpressible in cold, dry words the twin dragons of mental illness and addiction. What other infirmities attack us to the very core of who we are, eat at our souls and then make us feel that we are to blame for the damage?

This dear friend of mine is working out of a long cycle of depression and self-medicative addiction. It's a jolting, uneven and difficult process. This person's marriage is suffering, which means that two people I love are hurting.

I'm surprised by how much it has affected me, especially because I usually hear the details after the fact and haven't really been in the middle of any of it. But, actually, I think that's worse. I feel so helpless in a situation with which I want so badly to help. I'm doing what I can. But, really, prayers and support are probably the only real help most of us can offer at this point. They are working with doctors, counselors and ecclesiastical leaders. I am just praying that all those helping them will be discerning, sensitive and capable. I have faith that they can make it through this. I have faith in the greatness of their spirits and their ability to overcome.

Now, on a completely different note...

I saw a cute little scooter driving past me the other day on my way to pick kids up from school. It has been a long time since I've seen something and just really coveted it. But, boy. I coveted that scooter. I wasn't sure why I longed to trade that guy for my mini-van. I wanted rather desperately (embarassingly so) to hop on that scooter, feel the wind through my hair and just zoom. Just go.

Then I thought about it for a little while. It wasn't the scooter that I wanted so much as the freedom. Ah, the freedom to get on a little scooter, by myself. To go where I want to go without having at least two little appendages to get in and out of the car. Ahhhhhh....

Trust me. This is heady stuff for me. I crave and am so fed by, filled by quiet, alone time. I had a very difficult time when I was first married. It was hard for me to adjust to having someone always there, always having someone to talk to. And, unlike roommates or siblings, I didn't feel like I could just make some excuse to get away from him. Not that I really wanted to. But, I remember feeling deeply shaken by the lack of alone time I had after we got married. Sometimes I just need the freedom to go wherever I want to go and be completely alone.

Now, um... I have four children. Quiet, alone time is in drastically short supply around here. Add to that the fact that I have a five month baby who needs me a great deal. So, I think that's where the frenzied, scooter-lusting feelings came from.

Some days I feel like William Wallace.

Freedom!!!

Okay, so maybe that's a bit over-dramatic. But, hey. Indulge me. This blog is as close as I get to a good, long afternoon alone at the library.

Now, on to the funnies. Which means Mashuga.

This kid cracks me up like nothing else. He likes to pretend to be a super hero. A new one every day. And we're not talking Batman or Superman or Spiderman. He does use those standbys occasionally. But, he'd rather be creative. He's super-punch, or fast-man, or strong-kick or captain kick-punch man. The other day he was super Ted.

Um, super Ted?

Well, my favorite is when he tells me this:

"Mom. Heavenly Father told me that he's going to turn me silver. He's going give me super strength and turn me into a super hero to fight off sin."

There you go folks. Temptation getting to you? Just call Mashuga. He's here to fight off sin.

Then, the other day we were driving by a smokestack.

"Mom," he said. "Is that where they make the clouds?"

Then, there's this:



Rusty the super dog. Yes, that's underwear on her head.

Well, I think I'm done rambling for the day. Sorry it's been a while.

Scud and I are working on a book about volcanoes for his class. So, I'd better get back to it.

Volcanoes are openings in the earth's crust.

Life is good.