Life

Why is it that we look forward for something to happen with such anticipation, only to finally realize our goal and find out life is still tough? Is it because we didn't reallly understand everything that all would be involved in our dream, or is it because we take ourselves with us, so no matter the circumstances, we we still have problems?

I wanted to be married, but I didn't want my normal life to change. I just wanted to add a husband to earn the living, to love me and make me feel good, and to let me have more children. I wasn't looking for someone to come in and change my life or make me do things his way or change or my children.

Moe had enjoyed being a bachelor for many years when he met me. He liked peace and quiet, he liked doing his own thing when he wanted to do it. Getting married for him meant he wouldn't have to cook or clean or take care of himself anymore. He looked at me and my kids and saw a broken family and got the urge to fix us, to protect and take care of us. The problem was, we didn't need, or want, fixing, or even protection. We just wanted someone to love us.

It's a good thing both Moe and I believed God wanted us to be married, forever, and that He had told us it was the right thing to do. Otherwise it would have been really easy to say, “Hey, this isn't what I bargained for,” and walk away.

Moe was an extremely patient, kind man, but he had his limits. His parents had adopted him when he was a baby, and perhaps they spoiled him because of that. He often admitted that they were more lenient and spent more time praising and building him up than they did his younger brother. Moe's mother used to tell about his bad spells, temper trantrums if you asked me, when he would get mad and go up to his room and not come down for hours, or even days. She said she just left him alone until he worked his way through whatever was bothering him. Even by the time we got married, that was still the way he tended to handle confrontations. He would walk away, or drive away, usually going out to spend time with his folks.

At first this really scared me. I had a phobia, learned all the way back when I was a toddler, about being left. I suspect I got it the day I climbed out of the car and toddled off by myself down Mainstreet. Mom found me at a street corner, happily sucking a lollipop some nice man had given me. I was fine, she was not. She worked hard to impress upon me the severity of going off by myself. By the time I was in 1^st grade I was timid and shy, afraid of being lost or forgotten. I had a difficult time going away to school, being in crowds where I might loose sight of my family, or having to go anywhere without them.

When I was married to my first husband I went through ten years of anxiety, waiting and waiting for him to come home, never knowing if he was going to show up or not. I endured innumerable nights of torture, wondering if a police-man was going to come to my door to tell me my husband had been in an accident or killed. I can't tell you how many funerals I prepared in my mind for that man. Eventually, when he finally admitted to all the rotten stuff he'd been doing during those ten years, I understood why he was always late. At the time, though, he always had some plausable excuse, so I just endured.

When Moe and I got married, then, and he would get upset and drive away, it was like going through that hell all over again. It scared me so much, but he always came back, and I gradually began to trust that he always would. The thing I was most grateful for was that I never worried that he was off seeing another woman or doing something wrong. I might be afraid he wouldn't forgive me and come home, but I knew he wouldn't break his marriage vows. You have no idea how wonderful that was, after the years of living with my first husband.

Slowly, little by little, I began to understand Moe better and get a feeling for what pushed his buttons. Not that I always avoided pushing them, but I tried. I began to figure out that Moe and I didn't communicate very well. My mind doesn't work very fast, and I needed time to explain what I was thinking; sometimes I didn't even know what it was until I'd had a chance to talk it out. Moe tended to hear the first few words and stop listening, focusing on whatever he'd heard to begin with. A lot of times neither one of us actually listened to what the other person was saying because we assumed we knew what they were going to say and we were preparing our rebuttal. How many arguments could have been avoided if we'd only given each other the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to conclusions?

Still, year by year, we stuck it out. Gradually the children grew up and moved away. First Linnea, then Holly. As each child moved on our family changed. Tensions were released, just a little, but still the younger kids grew older and we had different issues to face. Being a teenager is hard work. They see so clearly the injustices and hypocracies, but aren't old enough to realize they cause most of the problems they are unhappy about. How many times did I go to bed, cover my head with my pillow, and wish I could just go away somewhere for a little while where I didn't have to deal with hurt feelings, egos or pride?

Still, for all the worry and stress, there were moments of happiness and joy interspersed in our lives. Going to the cabin was still one of my favorite escapes, and I blessed dad over and over in my heart for giving me a place where I could find peace. Attending church, reading the scriptures, church magazines, good books, listening to good music, going to the Temple, and taking advantage of all the conferences, classes and seminars I could go to also helped. Each time I was really down it seemed like the Lord gave me the answers, or at least an escape, through feeling the spirit.

Most of all, my family gave me a reason to keep going. I loved them all, so much.

Mom was my best friend. Hardly a day passed when I didn't spend at least a couple of minutes visiting with her, laughing, sharing stories, and just talking. Dad was always there, even though I didn't visit with him that much because he was usually busy outside working. I knew he loved me and was proud of me, and that meant more to me than words can express.

I loved my sisters and sister-in-laws, and we had more fun getting together to do crafts, give each other permanents, try out new recipes, and have fun. Weekly Sunday night gatherings were the happiest times of the week for me, when I could relax, unwind, and just sit around and listen to the jokes and stories my brothers and brother-in-laws told, watch the kids play, and bask in the happiness that being a member of my family gave me.

My own family also brought me such joy. Moe tried hard to make me happy. Often he told me how beautiful I was, and although I assured him that he needed glasses, it made me feel good that he liked the way I looked. The kids wanted much to make me happy, too. They tried to be good, to get along with each other and Moe. They were such good kids.

I didn't want to intrude on Linnea's new marriage, but I enjoyed getting together with her just like I enjoyed being with my own mom. Holly went away to Ricks college in Idaho, but it seemed like we talked even more once she was gone than we did when she was home. Russell suddenly seemed to have all kinds of friends, boys and girls, and they had so much fun. Often he brought them to our house, and I loved feeding them and watching them pal around. Alyssa was also becoming a social butterfly, and her friends came over often. Stephen was happy scouting, camping, playing sports, and working outside with grandpa and Moe, and Kami and Krissi were changing from babies to the cutest little girls in the world. So life was good, stressful, frustrating, but good.