The fearful mom and the faithful four: Sunrise....Sunset......Sonrise...Sonset.....

I waited to write this entry until I could do it without tears. I still tear up, but my throat doesn't feel contricted and my cheeks don't ache from clenching my teeth. There was this wail that was centered deep inside that was struggling to make its way up and past my vocal chords. I knew, however, that I would embarass myself horribly if it succeeded, and so restrained it the last few days. I was going to wait until everyone was out of the house and have a good cry, or go to an empty parking lot where I could bawl in the car. I really intended to find a place and time, but the place and time never happened for me. I am now coping better than I thought I would, and am optimistic I can hold it together until at least Rachel departs!
Why is it so hard to see your child leave? When Matthew and Mark were little, I didn't like them gone for a night, and now two years seems forever. I feel as if I am grieving , but not for them, for myself. I grieve the loss of the babies I nursed and rocked, for the little boys who caused such havoc in their early years. I grieve for the children that have grown up. I miss their little voices, and now their deeper matured ones. I miss the boys who cleaned my car, washed my dishes, and ran errands. I miss the boys who filled our home with music, laughter and love. I did not know what to expect nineteen years ago when I discovered I was yet again having twins, and boys at that! Ahhh! Physically, mentally, emotionally and yes, financially, how were we to handle it? Well, the years passed with a few mishaps, but mostly they brought us lots of things to laugh at and to love. I hesistate to write about this change in my life, because so many mothers lose their children to death and a life time until eternity is certainly a lot longer than two years. I pray that I never have that trial, but none of us are guaranteed anything in this life. We all must go on with faith and endure what comes next. I realize my blessings, but feel stubborn in acknowledging them at times. I am beyond grateful for mine and must reflect upon them more often.
I rather think I was reading a book when they announced the plan for this earth life. I am a coward at heart, and destest change of any kind. I need to embrace the things that this new change will bring. I have so many things on so many levels to work on-----my personal, spiritual and physical life needs a lot of work. I can choose to use my time wisely or merely let the years continue to go by without improvement. I would hope that I can choose to change some of the things that do not permit me to become a better person. Instead of sitting around whining about the passage of time, I should make the passage of time count for something. I have gotten in the habit of just collapsing after piano lessons and watching mindless TV or something as equally time wasting until bedtime. I figure that because I do so many things in the day; I rather deserve some lazy, sitting time. The guilt is starting to get to me, however, and I need to stretch myself a little further (figuratively and physically!)
The boys were "set apart" for their missions tuesday night. This was a special Priesthood blessing and all of my boys and my son-in-law participated in blessing Matthew and Mark. I wish I could remember the blessings given by President Lund, our Stake President, but I was sniveling too much. I started crying the minute I entered that room, and found it difficult to stop. I wanted to throw myself down on the floor and protest that the mormon practice of "ripping" nineteen year old children from their mommies was just too cruel and inhumane. I was ashamed, but the tears flowed anyway, and there was no stopping them.
I guess I felt I had to cry for everyone, because everyone else seemed to be in control. I keep reminding myself that I carried those two boys for 36 weeks, and have a nice video of the two of them being pulled from my body in a caeserean section procedure. I have a connection with them that no one else does, and I have used it often during their childhood to elicit feelings of guilt. It has served me well, and is my special power!
Afterwards we went to Ligori's Pizza where we have had many happy memories. My mom used to take my kids there. After ordering pizza, meatball sandwiches, salads and garlic bread, only one piece of pizza remained. We Taylors sure know how to eat!! Jerry and I are going to lose that talent these next two years, right Jer? We huddled outside the restaurant where the boys hugged their sisters, brothers, sister-in-laws, and brother-in-law. Ben left the boys with this short message, "don't come home". This just means to tough the two years out, learn to love the work , the people, and endure the rough times. So there you have it, we will miss you terribly, but you made this choice, and a promise needs to be kept!
Dorma came over to help pack. Everything fit incredibly well, and as they are not going to a third-world country, they can always buy anything they need or have it shipped. Friends came, more tears were shed, and a mom threw up all night. I don't know if it was emotion, bad pizza ( but everyone else ate it) or the augmentin medication I started on for my sinus infection.
We actually left on time the next morning. I felt pretty wretched owing to my night in the bathroom, and the painful event awaiting me. Bethany drove incredibly well, and we arrived in Provo to drop off a package at the same day MTC postal store and to eat one last in-n- out burger. The boys were celebrities whereever we went, and it being Wednesday, everyone was on alert for the incoming flux of newbie missionaries.
We went to the Provo Temple, and took a few random pictures of our last time together, and all too soon, it was one-twenty-five p.m. Let's get this over, people! and we piled back into our car to make the short drive through the designated entrance where we were told "two minutes" after dropping them off. I told "him" a lovely man who was just doing his job, we had two missionaries and needed four minutes! He grinned, and said , "you've got it, Sister". A tender mercy soon came into view as we turned to pull up on the curb. Amongst the hundreds of Elders and Sisters milling around the grounds, we saw our neighbor, and the boy's good friend, Elder Drake Larsen, walking along. We rolled down the windows and screamed, "Drake!" He was just as exuberant as we were, and ran excitedly to meet us at our curb spot. It was soo good to see him, and I tried to hug him even though he is an Elder!! The boys fell into each others' arms and it was so good to see them all so pumped up! My eyes cleared for a minute, and I asked Elder Larsen if he wanted me to take a message from him to his Mother. "Nah", he said, nonchalantly, "I sent her an e-mail this morning", Mark and Matthew gave me such good hugs, so much love behind them, while Rachel snapped pictures of the tender moments. And then....and then they were off, to grow up, to learn, to become adults. I climbed back into the car, just in time to see Drake lean in from the open back door..."Say, Jane?" he said a little hesitantly, "will you tell...will you tell my parents I love them?" "Of course", I said, as my throat was in my mouth...We waved, and we were off to let another car with someone else's child depart into the world of adulthood. I cried, of course I cried...for the letting go part, but also for the letting go part!! There was so much joy present....The two emotions were synonymous...the crying of tears that were both happy and anguished. I could be sad, but I could not be distraught.....it was time for them to go, and the time for them to be little children in my home was past. But....they will always be my babies. That will never change.
When my dad lay dying thirty four years ago at the age of 56, his aged mother , my grandmother, sat by his bed. She stroked his hand, and kissed his shrunken cheek. I remember one, solitary tear rolling down her cheek as she said, "I remember him riding his little red tricycle up and down our sidewalk." " He was getting burned from the sun, and I was worried". "He will always be that little boy to me". And now, Grandma, after having watched my seven babies grow into adults, I understand what you meant so very well.

The mom and her babies