The Burden of Motherhood

My kids all at one time or another, have praised their childhood and said they were happy compared to a lot of other people.

No more.

I tried very hard to encourage positive things and discourage negative things. But I have one child in particular who took my chastisements very hard, evidently. And this child refuses to forgive and move on.

Was I an alcoholic? Abusive? A sloppy housekeeper? Selfish? Neglectful? Did I ignore them? No. My husband and I were at almost every game and performance. We went on field trips. Healthful meals were on the table. The rooms were decorated with custom-made draperies and bedding. We paid a good portion of the college tuition, and they went to the schools of their choice. We took them to church. We encouraged them to be creative, letting them use cameras and art supplies. We have a wall of books, which they were free to read. They all graduated from early-morning church seminary, and I was the one who got up and made sure they got there. They had beautiful homemade Halloween, Colonial Day, and Medieval Day costumes. They had hand-knit sweaters. I made homemade cakes for birthdays. Christmas was a beautiful, festive event. We We went to both Disneyland and Disney World, the beach, New York, Niagara Falls and other places on family vacations. We paid for lovely wedding events. I taught them to write thank-you notes. But I still went wrong, evidently.

We were not perfect. My husband and I argued in front of them sometimes, we griped about our responsibilities, and we didn't have Family Home Evening or family prayer and scripture study on a regular basis. We did set a good example, though. There was not nearly the level of arguments and strife in our home that both our parents had. We went to the temple, we fulfilled callings in church, we helped them participate in both Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts.

Still, somehow I went so wrong that this child has long-simmering resentment and anger. I didn't understand this child's sensitivity well. Unfortunately, the past is past and there's nothing I can do about it now, but hope that someday my children realize how much of my heart and soul I put into them.

My children do not realize how hard I pray, how much I care, and how fervently I hope that they will all be with us in the life after this. I took, and take, my job as parent very seriously. I know that ultimately, they are responsible for their own actions, and that their father and I are responsible for our own. But oh, how much of my heart they hold in their hands!