It was supposed to be glorious. My son, of everyone, was most excited for me to have my recommend.
So we made plans. Temple across the valley from our home where Scott's parents work in the baptistry. Joseph Smith's birthday, the Christmas season upon us. Done with school yesterday, fun shopping with son to buy him a new suit this morning, massage this afternoon, perfect ending to a pretty good day. My sister and her kids joining us for the adventure.
Then...there's the traffic of last minute shoppers and it's dark and i don't know where I'm going. The fog thickens as we climb elevation, the windshield either speckled with moisture or streaked from the wipers and impossible to see through. Finally, we arrive in one piece. And then...
I forgot to check the date on my son's recommend. It is his first recommend--he's not ever had to think about expiration dates. What 13-year-old does? And it was in my possession--he didn't even have it if he did know to think about checking the date.
It expired at the end of November.
And I have no one to blame but myself.
At least he looks amazing in his new clothes, clear down to his shoes. And I've already made an appointment for him for a new recommend on Sunday. (Got in trouble with the temple worker at the desk for using my cell phone to call the executive secretary.)
And then my tears start to fall, and fall, and don't stop. Why didn't the spirit remind me about the expiration date? It didn't even enter my head? Why don't I feel peaceful and calm now that I'm here? Isn't that how I'm supposed to feel at the temple? I should be able to handle this with grace. I'm stronger than this. It is totally my own fault--not the temple workers' for enforcing the rules. But why do I feel resentment toward them? Why do I just want to swear? Why do I hate that they smile as they explain to my son that they are sorry, but there are no exceptions? Why am I so uncomfortable here, like I don't belong here, like I'm not good enough.
And then...why me? It was supposed to be for eternity...my marriage...my family. Why did all this have to happen, with Scott not here to comfort me, the one to drive through the fog or the one to remember to check on the expiration date?
And now I lay here in my bed hours later.
And I continue to cry. Scott agreed to take the baby for the night so I can try to get some sleep for once. He is a good man, a good friend and dad. He treats me like he loves me, and I know he does. My pain becomes his pain, but that doesn't change who he is--doesn't change his ability to be something he's not and believe or feel things that he doesn't.
5 weeks ago