Sealed

If you read my blog, you know my widowed mother lives in my basement and you know that I, her only surviving child, have a strained relationship with her - to put it lightly.

You can assume that I sometimes think very bad thoughts regarding my mother - thoughts that YOU would never indulge because you are a very good and mature person who loves your mother despite her quirks and foibles. Because I want to be a good person (or at least want to be thought of as a good person), I feel appropriate guilt for those very bad thoughts and have been trying to expunge them and forgive any and all of my mother's missteps, past and present.

It just isn't as easy as one might hope.

I have been reading Dr. Laura's Bad Childhood Good Life and attending LDS temple sessions twice a week for a lot of weeks now.

Through reading Dr. Laura's book, I have come to accept that my mother is not evil, just annoying. I have given up the hope that somehow, someday my mom will be the mother I want her to be. My childhood was what it was. If nothing else, it made me a strong, independent woman who can fend for herself when necessary, thankyouverymuch.

I had no respect for my mother, bitter, spiteful, little girl that I am. At the suggestion of the always brilliant Karen Miller, I don't call her Mom anymore. I just call her Grandma. She wears that title much better and I still have a modicum of respect for her as Grandma. No matter if it's for the title or the person: in my mind, if there is a drop of respect, love can grow.

While in the temple, meditating and praying and working through my business, I've been able to trudge through and turn over a lot of history and pain - I didn't feel like I needed to whine to a counselor for hours and dollars on end or have a grand confrontation and demand a half-assed apology to feel better. Forgiveness IS for myself; grudges are very heavy and putting them down frees up so much energy (though sometimes I am temped to pick it back up, I resist). The whole, let Jesus carry your troubles stuff kind of makes sense.

All of that garbage had to be sorted before Saturday because my mom wanted to have our family (my deceased father and brother, her and me) sealed in the temple for time and all eternity and I am not the kind of person who can fake her way through holy vows made before God. I had to be able to look my little mother in the eye at the alter of the temple and not ...

So we drove up to the tiny, but elegant Twin Falls, Idaho temple. My favorite Uncle Larry was able to stand (well, kneel) in as proxy for my father, my mom's younger brother was the proxy for my little brother. My little family, torn in half by death for the last 10 years, was reunited and sealed together that afternoon.

For a Mormon, being sealed to your family is the supreme ordinance necessary for exaltation. All other ordinances are done alone, but this one requires a man and woman, a creative unit, vowing to strive together for the rest of their existence, far beyond this life. I can't speak with any authority as to what happens to you when you die - if death is the end, so be it. But I hope it's not. Ultimately, the entire human race would be sealed together as one huge eternal family, fathers and mothers to each other and their children, children to their own spouses, on and on - the idea that all of us a part of One.

I miss my daddy and brother very much. In the temple, I felt, and continue to feel, closer to them now than at any point in my life. After much work in my brain, my heart has been softened towards my mom. Which is not to say everything is buttercups and unicorns ... but I have hope. I can persevere. I understand I have a lot to learn about loving my fellow beings and how forgiveness works and generally becoming the person God would have me be. But this was a good experience, a perfect day. And I will keep it in my heart forever.