Some Time in the Basement

I've needed a time out for a bit. Sometimes sharing info with the masses is simply too much, so I've needed a break. It has been a good time for me to ponder on a lot of things and receive some of my own personal insights. It's great that we have a Heavenly Father that allows and provides this two-way communication. It's important.

Tonight I decided to go look in the basement for some warmer clothes for the boys. I've been protesting the upcoming cooler weather and been trying to enjoy the fall. I realized that our days of shorts-wearing are coming to a close. Bummer.

In my basement, I got a little distracted. On top of the 3T tub (where I needed to look) was Adam's computer case. The one that was in the crash, in the trunk of the car. I decided right then and there that I'd go through that thing. Right down to every scrap of paper. I found some very interesting things in this bag. It felt good to go through all of it. I found a couple of things that I've been looking for [half-heartedly] for the past 3 years that I can finally give back to the radiology department. I haven't felt up to searching this bag too thoroughly.

After I had shredded papers and thrown away unnecessary items, I decided to go through one more thing that I had been avoiding. His backpack. And it literally took my breath away when I opened it. In it were items from our Disneyland trip with Adam's best friend Mark and my family during the month before Adam died. And a bunch of other random stuff. I can't figure out if this stuff was left over from our California trip or if it was from work. But the main thing that took my breath away was that I found some of his clothes. And they smell like him. Still.

On Saturday, I took 2 of the boys to Ted E. Bear Hollow. This place has turned out to be an amazing experience for my boys--and for me. One of the facilitators of the adult group that day mentioned how smells are one of the biggest triggers of grief. She mentioned how that is why many people break down in grocery stores, since much of lives are interconnected to food and gatherings. She's right. Smells are sometimes why I stop in my tracks and have to take a moment. It's a strange thing that something like a smell can bring us so vividly back to a place in time. Certainly this can be good and bad. It just IS.

So when I found these clothes, all I could do was sit in that basement and cry and hold them close. The two little boys noticed (because I really can't do anything without someone watching me...) the basement light on and came, wanting to help me in my task. I shooed them back upstairs telling them that I needed some Mommy time.

It has been three years. Three. While I see the progress I've made, I still long for Adam. I still place a pillow or a blanket next to me at night when I sleep, where he would be. I still expect him to kiss me goodnight. I still love his flavor chapstick on my lips. I still long to hear his laugh and his jokes. I still miss him coming home from work at night. I still wish he'd do the yard work.

I don't think I act out of fear with much of what I do anymore. Sometimes I act of out apathy more than fear (--not good. I know.). I'm still working on faith--as it will be a lifelong pursuit.

I'm still impatient with others. Things people say still tick me off at times or sometimes feel like a jab when I'm sure such intent is not there. I'm not near as sensitive as I was that first year and a half. Thankfully.

I want to have more hope and faith. I want to be more Christ-like and love all people with the love that I should. I want to be able to serve others more. I get so frustrated that I can't serve enough. There is so much joy to be found in service.

I'm trying to enjoy the present. But I've come to understand that "enjoy" is not quite what I had once envisioned. While I love my children, raising three young boys as a solo parent is not really about fun and games. It is about discipline and teaching them that the Lord has a plan for them. The burden is heavy for one person to carry and I feel the weight of it. There is so much that Adam would be a better teacher. I know it. So I'm trying my best--it's all I can do.

I'm learning that simple living is most important for us. I've come to realize that I'm glad that Adam died while we were living a simple life with little means, rather than the alternative. It helps me know how to focus on the best and most important principles of life. Simple is better for me. The Lord knew that.

But most importantly, I'm learning to understand Adam's purpose right now, and how I fit into our eternal family. I know that in everything, the Lord watches over me and loves me with unconditional love. I know that I have a good deal to learn here and that Adam is by my side learning too--for his learning is not complete. When I can look at life in this way, it gives me hope and helps me realize that everything that we go through, every sorrow and every bit of suffering is not wasted. The Lord gives us opportunities to learn and to choose our paths--or specifically, what we want to do with our paths. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father and a Savior who understand this principle better than me, and who patiently wait for me to allow them to teach me.