Tonight our home teacher came over for a visit. He shared with us something that I would like to in turn share with you...
Our home teacher's son was killed when the 4wheeler that he was driving fell on top of him. It has been 5 years since the accident and it is still obviously very hard for him to talk about. His son was 13 at the time. I think that unless someone has lost a child, no one can even begin to imagine what the parents go through. Our home teacher now serves with the young men of the ward and finds it hard because he wants so badly for these young men to grasp how short life is; that certain things that may seem like priority right now for them, in the end, will mean nothing. What he said next really struck me. He said, with tears welling up in his eyes, that it's not the big, huge, fun-filled trips and adventures that they went on that he misses the most. He said it's the "quiet moments" that he so cherishes. The walks, the hikes, the talks. Because in those "quiet moments" are the times when he could feel his son... when he could connect with him. What he said really touched me and it took everything in me to keep from bawling like a baby right in front of him.
We (society) live in a time now when our kids are in a handful of extracurricular activities and all our time together with them is spent shuttling them to each and every one. Or we think we need to plan some big adventure in order to have a good time with them. I think that if we all could have just a few more "quiet moments" with our children we'd see miracles happen within our families, we'd see bonds form that we never thought possible.
7 comments:
Something that I could never imagine...losing one of my kids. I don't think that you would ever completely heal from that! Thanks for sharing!
Today I was trying to force Livia to go to a birthday party. This was the second birthday party in 1 week she has refused to go to. The first one, we just went and Livia handed her little friend the birthday present and said Happy Birthday and I took her home. No biggy and I didn't make anything of it. But this time I started to freak out, because there were facials and nail polish and ice skating and even a limo involved. I was trying to force her to stay. I even tried to be sneaky and leave but she came crying to me. And luckily before my anger flared too much a thought came to my mind. She doesn't want to be with her friends, she wants to be with you. So I took her sweet little hand and again, handed over the present and we walked away.
Thanks for reiterating the importance of what we are here for. Sometimes, or maybe most of the time it is to "Just be."
It's not 1:43 am!
I'm crying now- thanks...what a beautiful story and lesson. I love your blog!
It is so true. There are several members of our ward who lost children when they were young too, and you can tell it's still hard for them to talk about them many years after the fact. Some have expressed the special times with their children similar to your home teacher. Very touching.
Yep. We have to enjoy every moment as a family don't we? Our time here together is very precious.
Great thoughts, thanks for sharing.
Post a Comment