Hope for Imperfection

This morning when my son proudly lifted the championship trophy over his head, I was taken aback. Since he started the season in September, his team has never won a tournament-only a few games here or there. But today, I witnessed a "Miracle" of sorts. This is what I saw:

 

 

 



{My 11 year old's smile says: Best hockey moment ever. One of my favorite's. The trophy will be engraved with his team name - Squirt Lightning 2014. Around his neck is the medal he will bring home.}

Hugging Max who was sitting next to me, I balled myself up in the corner of the stands and I cried. I can't pinpoint exactly why I felt so emotional...perhaps it was because I felt so proud of him and his little team for not giving up, or maybe it was because I was hit with an indisputable awareness that my children will someday be here without me.

 

What popped into my mind was this realization:

 

Now I know what I am feeling. Living NOW is a gift you give to your child that becomes something eternal, forever lasting within your child later.

 

And I have the evidence to prove it.

 

I raced out of the stands, taking two steps at a time to arrive at the crowded hallway to the locker rooms. I looked down the hall until I found Markus who handed me his sweatshirt we had purchased the day before, in good faith, hoping that in time, he would be able to get the word "Champions" ironed onto the sleeve.

 

And now was the time.  

 

I gave him a hug and he made sure I knew which sleeve to put it on (the right) and he went on his happy little way to celebrate in the locker room with his friends. He manages to make each one of them feel magnificent. He not only knows their name, but their nicknames as well. And he stays in the locker room until everyone has gone out, partly because he likes that part of playing hockey the best and partly because he doesn't want anyone to be left alone.

 

 

My mom had come to watch him play yesterday but I somehow wish she could have seen this game. She has many names of affection: Mom, Mommy, Sandra, Sandy Lee, Grandma and Great Grandma. She is many things to many people-but to me, she was everything.

 

 

My mom worked outside of the home while also being with our family. She lived her life for us, somehow making every moment special for each of her seven kids. Yes, seven kids! Can you imagine having seven kids and making each one of them feel like the magnificent seven? 

 

 

Well, that's exactly what my mom did.

 

 

My family endured many struggles for a just-below middle class family, but what we lacked in money and things, we made up for by having each other-most importantly by having our mother. She loved us openly with a smile, soft hands, and a hug that made everything feel better.

 

 

My mom was so much about others-about her kids, family and students. She worked as an ice skating instructor from the time I was 11 and she would take me with her in the family van along with all of her students from Park City once the rink closed for the summers up there. I was in awe of her reaction to her students and in turn, how they reacted to her. Again, it was her warm hands and her smile, her patience and her ability to listen-the students loved her and trusted her for the same reasons my brother and sisters did.

 

 

My mom loved to read, but it was historical novels on Abigail Adams not self-help books on how to be a better parent. She was educated in a sense from BYU with some classes on Elementary education but she just instinctively knew what we needed. For each of us, she handled things by just being there. She had one thing of monetary value, her gold charm bracelet, and she gave me the temple charm off of it one time I remember. What she always gave us was her time. TIME. No matter what she was in the middle of doing, she would usually stop when one of us kids came to talk to her.

 

The way my mom listened made me feel understood. I can still hear her saying, "Honey, let the little things go. I love you." Whether I was head over heels with a guy at age 17 or debating on which skating dress to wear, she was always there with an encouraging word and a smile.

 

Many times just by talking things through with my mom, worries would turn to laughter. When I didn't know how to kiss a boy she told me to whisper in his ear and he would get "all hot and bothered." My mom taught me that no matter what I faced in life, being able to laugh and stay positive was the best way to survive in this world.

 

 

On the day I left my family and everything I knew to be married, the last hug I received after the reception was from my mom. As always, the hug was accompanied with words of encouragement and ended with "I love you." Almost every sentence my mom ever spoke to me ended with the words, "I love you."

 

 

My mom lives her life and loves her children to her fullest potential. Perhaps that is why she can face everything with courage and grace. I am sure she made mistakes along the way, but I don't remember them. I only remember that she smiled and hugged with soft hands. She laughed a lot and finished her sentences with the words, "I love you."

 

And what has created a new found hope throughout the trying days on which I feel I've failed miserably as a mom is this:

 

It's not about trying to be a perfect mom to my kids; it is about trying to provide a childhood of love that is perfect for them.

 

Because it is love that sticks with us.

 

It is love that we pass on.

 

It is love that will endure even after I am gone.

 

I hope for imperfection, and love - LOVE without conditions and without restraint.

 

Spring Fling

Favorite Song

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4m2R6CLkvyQ

Five For Fighting

I'm Trying

I encourage my boys to talk to me about anything. And when they do, I strive to remain calm and non-judgmental—simply listen and help them feel understood. I realized tonight that with all the distractions of this age, I'm not the perfect listener, but I am trying.

When my boys are with me, I make a point to cook dinner so we can sit down together at the table for conversation and fun. In the hustle and bustle of hockey season, sometimes a quick meal is necessary and a family dinner doesn’t always happen, but I'm trying. 

My daily goal is to laugh with my boys, and let go of the things that tend to cause frustration and discouragement. It's easy with Max and his friends in the "Mahalo" to cherish the simple moments and keep what is important in perspective. Due to the stress of school, work, and parenting, sometimes I don't cherish the moments that matter, but I'm trying.

Although I realized there are days I fall short on being the mom I strive to be, I hear a loving voice telling me not to give up. This same voice reminds me that there is one area where I usually get it right:

I never fail to express love to my boys. I usually try to tuck my boys in bed. And I never fail to say the words, “I love you”—sometimes even whispering the words as I kiss their foreheads after they’ve gone to sleep.

Because at the end of the day, I know it’s all about the love … love that is accessible, warm, open, continuous—like the love my mom and dad gave me that I am now passing on to my boys.

"How did I get so lucky?!"

My sister Lara married her sweetheart on the twenty-first day of February. 

In her text with this photo she said, "How did I get so lucky?!"

She must have done something right, the mother of a twenty-year-old missionary, Tanner, who told me after having delivered his farewell address, that his mom was always there for him.

 

Although her daughter, Sierra, has never drifted a bit even during her teen years, she is thoughtful and caring enough to buy the engagement ring Todd used to propose (since the one he ordered wasn't ready on the day that he had arranged for the missionaries to film the proposal on Temple Square) and she genuinely enjoys spending time with her mom and Todd.

The way her eyes light up when she talks about the renewed relationship with her mother. She seems relieved about how things have turned out.

“I must have done something right,” Lara could be saying to her self. Instead she is counting her lucky stars.

Her oldest son is twenty seven. My oldest son is eighteen. I don’t want to wait nine years to know whether or not I’ve done something right. Because now is when I need to hear it.

Now—when I am in smack dab in the middle of raising my boys.

Now—when I feel the pressure to examine every choice I make, wondering how these choices will affect them now and in the future.

Now—when I want to trust my gut and live by heart rather than simply go along with mainstream opinion or “expert” advice.

Now—when I need little glimmers of hope to cling to each day.

So I have decided not to wait.

Each day for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been looking for a little rightness—a little what-is-right-in-my-world.

Notice I say “a little.” Because what I am talking about is practically unnoticeable. It’s hardly note-worthy. And it’s definitely not anything worthy of public sharing—at least not according to blog standards. But that’s why it’s working for me. That’s why it’s encouraging to me. Because looking for what is right in my world – in my day – in my hour – is far more encouraging than looking for what is “right” in my world according to popular opinion.

I invite you to take a look. Maybe this list will inspire you to see what is right in your world today.

Right in my World

I took him to the “free” pancake day even though I knew nothing is truly free.
I took him to try on sweatshirts. Lots of sweatshirts.
I took a deep breath when I felt like I might explode.
He took my hand as we walked across the parking lot and left it there a good long while.

I’m doing something right.

I gave him a leg rub when the couch was calling my name.
I gave him a second chance and he used it for good.
I gave him some help cleaning up that disaster of a room.
He gave me a happy-to-see-you-smile when I came to pick him up.

Lara was doing something right.

{Corona Del Mar}

You Only Live Once

Into each day we're blessed with so many things, it's true

we need to count our blessings

In all we say and do.

So this little teaspoon can be used 

But is a keepsake you can treasure, 

For a dash or spoon or heap of all

Will bring joy and love 

Beyond measure. 

 

{Into each day...a dash of kisses}

 

My mom came all the way down from Heber today, just to take me to lunch at Mimi's Café. I love that she takes the time to notice when I have been having a hard time. She gave me a little care package with this spoon in it and some peaches. She knows that you only live once...so you need to take the time to stop and notice the people you care about in life. Even if it is just a smile or a wave, it can make all the difference in the world.

 

Y.O.L.O.