It’s funny how life just moves along and then something will happen that will take my thoughts back to “the dark ages” - the time immediately after my son came home. A week ago my daughter, who is a senior in high school and one of the key players on her schools soccer team, was hit in practice and hurt her knee badly enough that she will miss the remaining region games. She has shed many tears the past few days with the myriad of visitors that have stopped by. Some bring treats, some have brought flowers, some brought care packages, some just come to visit and keep her laughing so she doesn’t lose the hope of playing in the state playoffs. But what really struck me the past few days was when one of her teammates came to visit and said, “I know exactly how you feel,” because she had experienced a similar injury during pre-season. She knew what to say and what not to say to my daughter. She knew what my daughter would feel during practice and that initial game as a spectator and not a player because she walked that road herself. Her teammate had real empathy for my daughter because she’s lived what my daughter is living right now and that has been instrumental in keeping her positive at this time. It has reminded me of the difference I felt as I encountered people after my son came home; as people tried to console a grieving mom. It is one thing to hear people say, “Oh, I’m so sorry,” and an entirely different thing to hear someone say, “I know exactly how you feel.”
We live in a great neighborhood and we have the best ward – I seriously love my ward family – and we have loving and supportive extended families (some family members not so much but that would be a whole different blog). In the days and weeks that followed my sons return we got the usual phone calls, visits, treats, Cokes, chocolate, notes, parenting books, etc. that everyone else probably gets. I have a theory that people who don’t really comprehend what you are going through, but want to show love and support, turn to the usual myriad of gifts and phrases that everyone uses. I’m as guilty as anyone else when it comes to that stuff - I feel like I can’t just visit without taking something tangible because it makes me feel like maybe my gift will be the magic cure all. I definitely learned that I’ve probably said and brought the wrongs things many times but hopefully the recipient will know that I love and care about them even if I don’t know what to say. I know I have felt the same for all those who took time to visit me.
I’ll never forget the first time a sister in our ward came up to me after Relief Society just weeks after my son came home, gave me a big hug, and whispered in my ear, “I know what you are going through.” I was surprised by her comment because she didn’t have sons that had served missions. She must have sensed my confusion because she pulled me aside and told me that she had been a missionary in Europe years ago, developed a medical condition, and came home early from her mission. She told me how devastated her family was and how devastated she was, and to a degree is still devastated by not finishing her mission. She told me that in time things would get easier for my son and our family but this experience would be with us forever. Her words may not have been what I wanted to hear (don’t we all want to hear that our sons will return and life will be happily ever after again?)but it brought me comfort to see that she was still in the church. She is a mom of many children, raising them in gospel, and more importantly she is still standing tall even though I could still see the pain of that experience in her eyes as we talked that afternoon in church. I was thankful that she was willing to share something so personal and to know that I was not alone.
The next month I was assigned new sister to visit teach and a very inactive sister as my partner who would rarely go with me, which turned out to be a blessing some months. One sister on my route was the mom of a son that had also returned home early from his mission years ago. I remember when her son came home. I was a fairly young mom at that point with 5 young children and made the naïve mistake of thinking, “I’ll never let that happen to my son.” (Karma!) I felt very apprehensive about visiting this sister because I didn’t want to spend every month talking about our sons who came home early and I certainly wasn’t able to say much about the subject without breaking into a lot of tears. I backed out of two appointments with this sister because of my fear of visiting with her. This sweet sister must have sensed my insecurities because she said to me one day at church, “we don’t have to talk about our sons…we will find plenty of other things to talk about.” That was all I needed to feel safe and I showed up for the next appointment. As we were visiting the topic naturally turned to our sons and I was grateful that it did. I was emotionally ready to hear what she had to say. She told me, over the course of two hours, how devastated she was when her son came home and how hard that time was. She admitted that ten years later she is still devastated and not over the hurt and anger that she carries inside of her. She then said, “I want to share what I have learned from all this so you and your family don’t make the same mistakes that I did.” Because she knew what I was feeling her words spoke to my soul like no one else’s words had. As we sat on her couch in her living room on a cold winter day she poured out her heart, her soul, her hurt, her anger, her love, her frustration, and her hope for her son and mine. I feel like I had a huge jump start in my healing process after listening to her. I was her visiting teacher for 9 months and my partner only came twice during that time which allowed us to talk about other things besides our sons which was a good break. The other months she and I shed a lot of tears, talked in a way that we couldn’t with other people, and buoyed each other up. I was sad when I was reassigned to another sister but knew the time I had spent with this sweet sister was a tender mercy from Heavenly Father. We knew what we as mothers feel for ourselves, our families, and our sons.
A few months later my husband and I were in the 5th Sunday combined Priesthood/Relief Society meeting and the topic was about the services the church offers. Somehow the lesson got to the services the church offers for early release missionaries. The older man teaching the lesson proceeded to talk about what great services were available for these ERM and how many resources were there for a family experiencing that trial. My husband and I couldn’t be quite any longer because most of what he was saying simply wasn’t true – at least not in the area we live in and we live in Utah County. So we raised our hands and explained to him what we had been experiencing and living the past three months and none of it included what he was teaching. There were several other families in that room that had sons that returned home early and quickly backed us up. Our Bishop asked us all to come to his office after church with this teacher so that we could communicate to him where the church needs to reach out more on this subject. I’ll admit that walking to the Bishops office after church I felt like I little kid in trouble. There were ten of us in that room – one young man that had come home early from his mission came in as well to give his perspective. There was a former Bishop when his son came home and his wife; a former 1st counselor in the stake presidency and Relief Society president when their son came home; a counselor in the YW presidency and gospel doctrine teacher when their son came home; my husband who was the ward mission leader (still embarrassed over that) and myself who was in the Relief Society presidency and a couple of others. As we all sat in our Bishops office we all knew the hurt, shame, grief – all those emotions that we had just relived during Relief Society/Priesthood – was palpable in that room. I watched men that I thought were invincible and strong as leaders in the church weep like children as they talked about what they experienced and still experience when this topic comes up. We were all able to express and communicate our frustrations and we all knew first-hand what we were feeling because we’ve all lived it. I’m not sure if we made any real progress or said things that the church will get right on, but it was very healing in a sense to sit in that room, to feel the emotions of everyone, and find strength to keep on going because that’s all we can do. I also realized that the hurt and pain of this will never, ever leave and that weighs heavily on my heart.
And finally I’ll never forget the time I ran into our old Bishops wife at Wal-Mart. We had lived in their ward when our son was just a baby and moved away when he was four. She had a grandson the same age as our son and they had played together when they were young so she always asked me how my son was when I saw her. Of course she had known he had left on a mission – the whole world knew that thanks to me. So of course when she asked about my son I had to tell her that he had come home and how hard that had been. I was totally shocked when she said, “I know exactly how you feel. My son came home early too.” We had lived in their ward 4 years and I never knew that nor would I have ever guessed that. We talked for a solid 30 minutes next to the cooking utensils as she told me how she didn’t even leave the house for months and how his early return almost finished her mentally and emotionally. She told me she experienced all the things that I was experiencing – that any mother experiences when this happens. There is something validating and strengthening to me when I hear that I’m not alone and I’m actually feeling all the “normal” emotions.
Hearing other mom’s say, “I know exactly how you feel” is what gets me through the hard times. I believe that as we share our sorrows, our disappointments, and heartaches that it allows us to heal and perhaps even feel empowered that we are healing and moving forward. I truly believe that as we share our stories we make it easier for others to heal – a lesson I learned from the sister I was able to visit teach.
I just finished reading “My Story” by Elizabeth Smart, the girl that was kidnapped from her home in Salt Lake City for 9 months before being found. At the end of her book she says, “…I have also learned that my challenges can help me reach out to others with more empathy and understanding than I could have ever had before. When we are faced with a challenge, it is very easy to be mad or upset. But when we have passed our great test, we are then given the opportunities to reach out to other people. We are able to effect change in a way that otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to…Because I have actually lived through these experiences, I am able to be a voice for change. If I hadn’t had this terrible experience, I’m not sure that I would have cared enough about these issues to become involved….”
I am in no way comparing my trial to hers because it’s not even in the same ball park. But her advice resonated with me. I believe I am passing the test and will always have the opportunities to help others pass through the test as well. I have, we all have, experienced this trial so that I can reach out to others with real empathy and understanding, to mourn and comfort those that stand in need, and to find the opportunities to say to other mom’s, ”I know what you are feeling.” While I’m not so thankful that my daughter is hurt and missing games, I am thankful for the teammate that came and said, “I know what you are feeling” so that I could remember what I am supposed to be doing for others. I don’t need to worry about gifts and care packages I just need to say, “I know what you are feeling.”
We live in a great neighborhood and we have the best ward – I seriously love my ward family – and we have loving and supportive extended families (some family members not so much but that would be a whole different blog). In the days and weeks that followed my sons return we got the usual phone calls, visits, treats, Cokes, chocolate, notes, parenting books, etc. that everyone else probably gets. I have a theory that people who don’t really comprehend what you are going through, but want to show love and support, turn to the usual myriad of gifts and phrases that everyone uses. I’m as guilty as anyone else when it comes to that stuff - I feel like I can’t just visit without taking something tangible because it makes me feel like maybe my gift will be the magic cure all. I definitely learned that I’ve probably said and brought the wrongs things many times but hopefully the recipient will know that I love and care about them even if I don’t know what to say. I know I have felt the same for all those who took time to visit me.
I’ll never forget the first time a sister in our ward came up to me after Relief Society just weeks after my son came home, gave me a big hug, and whispered in my ear, “I know what you are going through.” I was surprised by her comment because she didn’t have sons that had served missions. She must have sensed my confusion because she pulled me aside and told me that she had been a missionary in Europe years ago, developed a medical condition, and came home early from her mission. She told me how devastated her family was and how devastated she was, and to a degree is still devastated by not finishing her mission. She told me that in time things would get easier for my son and our family but this experience would be with us forever. Her words may not have been what I wanted to hear (don’t we all want to hear that our sons will return and life will be happily ever after again?)but it brought me comfort to see that she was still in the church. She is a mom of many children, raising them in gospel, and more importantly she is still standing tall even though I could still see the pain of that experience in her eyes as we talked that afternoon in church. I was thankful that she was willing to share something so personal and to know that I was not alone.
The next month I was assigned new sister to visit teach and a very inactive sister as my partner who would rarely go with me, which turned out to be a blessing some months. One sister on my route was the mom of a son that had also returned home early from his mission years ago. I remember when her son came home. I was a fairly young mom at that point with 5 young children and made the naïve mistake of thinking, “I’ll never let that happen to my son.” (Karma!) I felt very apprehensive about visiting this sister because I didn’t want to spend every month talking about our sons who came home early and I certainly wasn’t able to say much about the subject without breaking into a lot of tears. I backed out of two appointments with this sister because of my fear of visiting with her. This sweet sister must have sensed my insecurities because she said to me one day at church, “we don’t have to talk about our sons…we will find plenty of other things to talk about.” That was all I needed to feel safe and I showed up for the next appointment. As we were visiting the topic naturally turned to our sons and I was grateful that it did. I was emotionally ready to hear what she had to say. She told me, over the course of two hours, how devastated she was when her son came home and how hard that time was. She admitted that ten years later she is still devastated and not over the hurt and anger that she carries inside of her. She then said, “I want to share what I have learned from all this so you and your family don’t make the same mistakes that I did.” Because she knew what I was feeling her words spoke to my soul like no one else’s words had. As we sat on her couch in her living room on a cold winter day she poured out her heart, her soul, her hurt, her anger, her love, her frustration, and her hope for her son and mine. I feel like I had a huge jump start in my healing process after listening to her. I was her visiting teacher for 9 months and my partner only came twice during that time which allowed us to talk about other things besides our sons which was a good break. The other months she and I shed a lot of tears, talked in a way that we couldn’t with other people, and buoyed each other up. I was sad when I was reassigned to another sister but knew the time I had spent with this sweet sister was a tender mercy from Heavenly Father. We knew what we as mothers feel for ourselves, our families, and our sons.
A few months later my husband and I were in the 5th Sunday combined Priesthood/Relief Society meeting and the topic was about the services the church offers. Somehow the lesson got to the services the church offers for early release missionaries. The older man teaching the lesson proceeded to talk about what great services were available for these ERM and how many resources were there for a family experiencing that trial. My husband and I couldn’t be quite any longer because most of what he was saying simply wasn’t true – at least not in the area we live in and we live in Utah County. So we raised our hands and explained to him what we had been experiencing and living the past three months and none of it included what he was teaching. There were several other families in that room that had sons that returned home early and quickly backed us up. Our Bishop asked us all to come to his office after church with this teacher so that we could communicate to him where the church needs to reach out more on this subject. I’ll admit that walking to the Bishops office after church I felt like I little kid in trouble. There were ten of us in that room – one young man that had come home early from his mission came in as well to give his perspective. There was a former Bishop when his son came home and his wife; a former 1st counselor in the stake presidency and Relief Society president when their son came home; a counselor in the YW presidency and gospel doctrine teacher when their son came home; my husband who was the ward mission leader (still embarrassed over that) and myself who was in the Relief Society presidency and a couple of others. As we all sat in our Bishops office we all knew the hurt, shame, grief – all those emotions that we had just relived during Relief Society/Priesthood – was palpable in that room. I watched men that I thought were invincible and strong as leaders in the church weep like children as they talked about what they experienced and still experience when this topic comes up. We were all able to express and communicate our frustrations and we all knew first-hand what we were feeling because we’ve all lived it. I’m not sure if we made any real progress or said things that the church will get right on, but it was very healing in a sense to sit in that room, to feel the emotions of everyone, and find strength to keep on going because that’s all we can do. I also realized that the hurt and pain of this will never, ever leave and that weighs heavily on my heart.
And finally I’ll never forget the time I ran into our old Bishops wife at Wal-Mart. We had lived in their ward when our son was just a baby and moved away when he was four. She had a grandson the same age as our son and they had played together when they were young so she always asked me how my son was when I saw her. Of course she had known he had left on a mission – the whole world knew that thanks to me. So of course when she asked about my son I had to tell her that he had come home and how hard that had been. I was totally shocked when she said, “I know exactly how you feel. My son came home early too.” We had lived in their ward 4 years and I never knew that nor would I have ever guessed that. We talked for a solid 30 minutes next to the cooking utensils as she told me how she didn’t even leave the house for months and how his early return almost finished her mentally and emotionally. She told me she experienced all the things that I was experiencing – that any mother experiences when this happens. There is something validating and strengthening to me when I hear that I’m not alone and I’m actually feeling all the “normal” emotions.
Hearing other mom’s say, “I know exactly how you feel” is what gets me through the hard times. I believe that as we share our sorrows, our disappointments, and heartaches that it allows us to heal and perhaps even feel empowered that we are healing and moving forward. I truly believe that as we share our stories we make it easier for others to heal – a lesson I learned from the sister I was able to visit teach.
I just finished reading “My Story” by Elizabeth Smart, the girl that was kidnapped from her home in Salt Lake City for 9 months before being found. At the end of her book she says, “…I have also learned that my challenges can help me reach out to others with more empathy and understanding than I could have ever had before. When we are faced with a challenge, it is very easy to be mad or upset. But when we have passed our great test, we are then given the opportunities to reach out to other people. We are able to effect change in a way that otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to…Because I have actually lived through these experiences, I am able to be a voice for change. If I hadn’t had this terrible experience, I’m not sure that I would have cared enough about these issues to become involved….”
I am in no way comparing my trial to hers because it’s not even in the same ball park. But her advice resonated with me. I believe I am passing the test and will always have the opportunities to help others pass through the test as well. I have, we all have, experienced this trial so that I can reach out to others with real empathy and understanding, to mourn and comfort those that stand in need, and to find the opportunities to say to other mom’s, ”I know what you are feeling.” While I’m not so thankful that my daughter is hurt and missing games, I am thankful for the teammate that came and said, “I know what you are feeling” so that I could remember what I am supposed to be doing for others. I don’t need to worry about gifts and care packages I just need to say, “I know what you are feeling.”
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