A Simple Lesson in Acceptance

I was sitting in my front room this afternoon, looking out the window over our unlandscaped backyard just reflecting on the changes that have come throughout these past two years.

We have moved into a beautiful new home, the boys have found amazing friends, the siblings are all blending in a way that I never thought possible, hearts have been open, acceptance has occurred and life is moving along at the speed of light.

As I was making dinner tonight, our youngest came into the kitchen and sat down on the stools near the counter.  He had the biggest grin on his face. 

"What's up?" I asked as I shaped dough for rolls.

"T and I have been playing upstairs like real brothers," his excitement was infectious.

"Really?" I responded, setting down the dough ball and looking him full in the face.

"Yep! We played swords, and he pinned me, but I pulled out my dagger, then he grabbed it, so I pulled out my other dagger, he grabbed that one too, so I pulled out my third weapon and he asked me how many weapons I had.  Then he tickled me!" The light in those blue eyes was brilliant.  

"I think we're finally real brothers."

"You've been real brothers for a while buddy."

"Yeah, but you know your real brothers when you can laugh and joke and tickle and pretend fight.  That's what makes you real brothers," He then hopped off the stool and ran back upstairs.

T was gone when Eric and I married.  He had been serving a mission for our church for two years.  He was serving when his mother died.  He was serving when his Dad and I met.  He was serving when we got married.  The home he came back to was completely different than the one he left.  I was very nervous when we all showed up that airport to welcome him home.

Would he like us?

Was it all too much?

How was this going to work?

When T came down the escalator, he had a big smile on his face.  He hugged his Dad, his sister and his younger brother.  Then Parker walked over and T hugged him too. He also hugged the two younger ones.  I was completely choked up by this display of acceptance that was so unexpected.  He also hugged me.  He didn't have to.

He could have been bitter.

He could have been angry.

He could have taken all the time he needed to slowly ease into this new blended world, but he didn't. 

I've never asked him why, although some day I would like to. Of all of our children, the one who was out serving for most of the large transitions walked into the middle of it all and never missed a step. He's loved, served, worked, and tried from the first moment to accept our family just as it is.  He has taught me quite a lot about how easy it is to allow things to be.  

In the end, they all work out- just as they were meant to. 

Much love,

Kami

The Art of Missing

I was asked last year if I "missed Steve anymore?" And it's taken me a while to come up with an insightful response that didn't seem trite, defensive, or quick.  In fact, it's taken me a year.

I would like to tell you that this was the first time the question had ever come up, but it seems to be on the tip of a lot of people's tongues and so I've learned that it is a perfectly reasonable inquiry.  If you've never experienced loss of this magnitude it would make you wonder just how much a person misses someone, once they've moved forward with their life.
I've probably wondered it a time or two myself....before.
I can honestly say without a moment's hesitation that I miss him every day.
Unequivocably.
The pain is not as sharp and joy comes more and more easily.  I don't find myself holding my breath quickly after I've laughed, feeling like I've betrayed him in any way.  I used to do that.  I did it a lot.
I have also found that I don't wake up worrying about if he's okay where he is- like I used to.
I have also found new confidence in my ability to parent the boys in a way that I feel like Steve would be proud, although there are days.  Man! Oh! Man! There are days.  Mostly because they are boys, not for any other reason.
So- yes, I miss him.  If I let myself, I miss what our lives might have been together at this point.  I miss celebrating his victories and witnessing his life.  I miss the way that he loved our boys and the gospel with ease.  Because that was him.  Everything that brought him joy- was done with such patience and ease.
I have found a new joy and a new life that is parallel to the one I might have had.  I have someone who loves our boys and the gospel.  He spent three days up at Scout camp with one of them and they both came back with big smiles on their faces.
I miss him- not because I'm not happy, but because of who he is.  This is the same reason why I love another: because of who he is.  There are times the feelings I have for both men get all tangled up in my heart and mind and I have to take a pause and reflect on the fact that this is not a competition.  There is no need to justify loyalty to one or the other.  We all are doing our best to be our best, love our best, and help others to the best of our ability.
So, yes- I do miss Stevie.  I still catch my breath when one of the boys' looks, does or says something so unique to their Dad that it makes time stand still for a bit.  There is an ache in my heart and a place that can't be filled.
There is also a new joy.  A new love.  A new lifetime to be had.  Rather than focus on what is not- I chose to focus on what is confident that the what is not will be taken care of with time.
It is amazing our capable our hearts are of love and how that love we have grows exponentially throughout our lifetimes.
Much love,
Kami