Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The Other Side of Mother's Day...

Time is probably the thing that fascinates me the most about aging.  "Time heals all wounds"  It really is so strange how time can change everything.  It can make to hardest trial seem possible, the most intense pain seem passible, even the worst transgression forgivable.  How incredibly grateful we all must be for time.  The way it goldenizes the past, washes over the ugly parts, and makes us remember the past with absolute fondness.

I am so grateful for this, I am.  But sometimes I am bummed about it.  I am bummed because I think it makes us so incredibly insensitive.  We forget the pain, the fear, the insecurity, whatever the hard thing was.... we forget.  Things that at some point in our lives were clearly very difficult, we forget.

And then out of no where every once in a while it strikes.  A blast from the past.  And then we vaguely remember.  It happened to me Saturday night.  It was my high school's prom.  I was having so much fun looking at all the pictures their moms were posting of Facebook of the couples before they went off to the dance.  And I realized a girl I care deeply about didn't get asked.  My heart just ached for her.  I told Jason and his response was, "How did she not get asked?  Everyone goes to prom."  It's crazy how it struck.  All the intense pain, the embarrassment, the absolute shame.  I said, "Jason I didn't get asked to my junior prom."

Even saying that.... was hard.

Right now I feel like I need to defend myself, make sure you don't think I was a loser, loner, or any of the awful things that I thought about myself.  I feel like I need to say, "But I got asked to 2 other proms, I got asked to every other dance of high school."

But that's the crazy thing about time.  Rarely do I ever think about that dance.  Rarely do I even remember the whole awful mess...... even though all day every day I am dealing with sensitive incredibly insecure teenagers.  I should be so much more sympathetic.  So much more understanding.  But I've thankfully, for the most part, gotten over it.

I truly am grateful that with time all things can be forgotten or lessened or eased.  I really am.  But sometimes it's hard.  It's hard going through something and feeling like no one understands, no one can relate. Because if they could understand or relate, there's no way they would be saying the things they do.  Almost like people are trying to make the pain worse.  When, of course, that isn't true.  Of course no one tries to make someone feel terrible.  So why oh why do we do things that make people feel so bad?  I think more often it's that we've forgotten.  We've forgotten the tender spots, the sensitivities, the pain.

Yesterday was an incredibly tough day.  As a way I've often used to cope with tough days, I was sitting there wracking my brain trying to think of what someone could say to make me feel better.  What could a speaker say?  What could a message be?  If I was the one speaking, what would I have said differently?  How could we make lemonade out of this awful, bitter lemon?  And honestly, no words came.

I could not think of a single thing that someone could have said or done to make the pain of yesterday go away.

And I think that's a good thing to remember sometimes.  That sometimes there aren't words.  There isn't an easy fix.  And sometimes that's okay.  It makes us human.  It makes us humble.  It makes it so much easier to turn to the only place where we can truly find peace.


Camile said...

I'm sorry it was a hard day for you Kristin. But thank you for sharing your feelings, your experience is teaching me to be more sensitive to those around me.

Jodie said...

You probably don't remember me but I worked at pleasant grove jr as a tracker. I've been stalking your blog silently for years! I know I am such a creeper! Anyway, this post brought me back to a lot of hard mothers days before I became a mom. It's odd because even though I've been there I don't have any idea what to say to make it better. Probably because I know nothing makes it better. It sucks and it hurts and nobody can fix it. For that I am so sorry! One thing that made relief society lessons and well meaning comments and questions of how many kids everytime we moved into a new ward a little more bearable was the reminder that the culture of our church sometimes makes our trials seem harder but the gospel will always always make it easier. Best of luck!

Ps. I hope I didn't just infer something completely off. If I did just regard this message. I will now go back to silently creeping.