I have no idea why doing the silliest of things makes me cry but it does. I suppose because these tasks are mundane and I have nothing to do but THINK. There is nothing like standing in the middle of the kitchen with a mop in hand and crying. I keep waiting for a day when it won't be like this. 

I  thought of my Heavenly Father and our Savior and I know I cannot compare this but yet the thought was still there. I thought how hard it must have been to watch his son suffer in the Garden of Gethsemane and listen to him beg not to have to go through that, but yet showing his willingness to do what his Father asked. I can't imagine that pain for a Father to watch his son, especially his perfect son, who was willing to die for us. 

Then I have thought about other families in the scriptures and what have they done when a child strays. There is that lingering part of me that asks is it okay to turn my back. 

I have to say...I have prayed about it and the one, LOUD, CLEAR thing that is come back to me over and over is that I cannot "intercede". I can't do it, perhaps that clear voice is telling me that I am not supposed to do it. All these choices, all these mistakes, all these directions are not mine, they are hers and she wants it this way. I cannot intercede. 

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I keep seeing this little girl twirling around in a video I have but I dare not take it out and watch. If I pull out that VHS tape I know I will crumble. It will be a deliberate act of torture. 

Recently, my daughter asked me why I called my parents and shared something private with them regarding her. Tearfully I told her that sometimes, even at my age...we need our parents. I am blessed to still have my Mom and Dad around. In an hour of sheer agony when I didn't know what to do...I called them.  I felt like a little girl again and I needed my parents. I have shared with her that there are so many pieces of this she will never get until she holds in her arms her very own and she watches that little person grow and struggle. I never loved ANYONE at all like I loved until she came in to my life. People asked if there is someone you'd die for and I wasn't sure until she was born and then I got it. 

I know your children are NOT supposed to be your friend but she and I have had special bond. There has been an openness and ability to talk to each other since she was a little girl. I have nurtured that because I wanted her to know that she could tell me whatever she needed to in her life. I have always told her that I wanted her to live a "wild and crazy life" so at the end of it she'd look back and have no regrets. I tell all the kids this. I want them to all reach out and live their dreams. Dream big, that is what I hope for them.  I want their faith to come deep from within. I  hope their beliefs will be deeply personal and their very own. I want them to be individuals who know who they are and love who they are! I am lucky because I was blessed with beautiful, talented and really smart kids. I hit the lottery in that department. 

Getting through this storm is just the hard part for me. I feel guilty sometimes for making it "my storm" but I feel what I feel. She may be an adult, she can be 19, 25, 40, 60 ...I don't care. I will always her Mother. I will always be their Mom. I will worry, I will have an opinion, I will hurt, I will butt in where I shouldn't sometimes. More than anything I hope I will do the absolutely best job possible and these four kids will know how much I love them, and I pray at the end of my life they can be grateful for all tried to do. I have made mistakes  with them, I have owned those mistakes, I have apologized and I have tried to do better but I haven't found the "owner's manual" yet. I am still searching for that. I suppose by the time the last one leaves our nest...I'll discover it and of course it won't be too late...because I will still be trying to "Mother them" even then.  :0)