9 months

June 11, 2013.  

The due date.  The date I was almost supposed to finally have a baby in my arms.  It almost came and went without me noticing.  Like a lot of things, I tried not to think about it.  Like I've always done, I tried to focus on the "now" as best I could, pulling out any meager scraps of joy to be had.  Unfortunately joy is hard to come by these days.  Every now and then it falls from the sky like manna and I scramble for it only to have it taste like stale bread I've been forced to eat every day for 7 years. But it's something, so I am grateful for it.

Actually, I am double grateful to Him right now for what He dropped down this past weekend.  It was like a big hunk of meat compared to the usual manna.  Probably because he knew the date was coming and I needed extra nourishment ... Every January and June I am in charge of the Music for Stake Conference (a large church meeting in which several surrounding congregations come together).  It worked out this time for us to be able to do a Primary Choir (children) instead of the usual Adult Choir.  This took A LOT more work, time, and travel involved than the Adult Choir usually takes.  I've spent the last 2 months of my life throwing myself into this big project.  I usually throw myself into any and every project I have--usually music related.  But this was different.  This was about the children.  This was a vast teaching opportunity.  A mothering opportunity.  And, yeah, I threw myself into it.  With the help of both Stake Primary leaders and Ward Primary leaders, we organized a choir of 40 kids, about 5 from each ward.  I feverishly and prayerfully worked to choose and outline the right music, planned and organized a calendar of practice dates, communicated with a whole host of parents and leaders about details, and then traveled with my 2 pianists to all of the local regions of the Stake to sing, practice, laugh, cry, and teach these amazing children the things they needed to know in order to be a part of something like this.  I taught them the gospel.  I taught them how to sing.  I taught them how to present themselves.  I taught them what it truly meant to be reverent and how to be a good example...to the adults.  I taught them how to be stalwart and strong and dependable.  I taught them how to be respectful to their leaders and to each other.  I taught them how to measure up to expectations when others are doubting you.  And boy did they measure up!  I knew they would.  And I wanted to prove that to the doubters.  I wanted to show everyone what our children are capable of when you teach them.  When you have expectations of them.  When you love them.  Man, I fell in love with those kids.  And they SANG their little hearts out!!  And they were SO GOOD!!  They had to stay up on the stand in their seats for 3 whole hours (1 hour practice + 2 hour meeting time) with nothing there to entertain them but to have to listen to the speakers!  And they DID IT!  Remarkably well! ...better than most adults. :)  I was so excited to learn Jim Knox had recorded the music and put it on a disc for me... What an awesome guy!  Here is a video of one of the songs they sang...

Weren't they AMAZING?!?!  Like, sometimes hilariously off and adorably loud in the wrong spots, but desperately trying to follow me and please me, and always absolutely AMAZING.  The Spirit was so strong while they were singing.  Their tender little testimonies came through the music as they sang, and THAT was the goal.  You couldn't help but feel it.
Yep, simply AMAZING.

Goodness, leading these kids was such a RUSH!  But like any climb you make, you eventually have to come back down.  Back to reality.  I always feel a sense of relief and accomplishment after Stake Conference is over.  It's a great and stressful thing to organize.  But this time in addition to the sense of relief and accomplishment was a great big pit of ACHE.  Ache that it was over.  Ache to realize that for a small moment these kids felt like yours.  And then when it's over you remember that they're not, and that they have to go home. With their parents.  And you go back to your empty and quiet house.  To ache.  I keep telling myself "not to cry because it's over, but smile because it happened."  Which I do.  But meager words like that don't cover the pain of a lifetime of longing for interaction with children.  The sense of loss that you feel when you constantly have to let the children in your life "GO" because they don't really belong to you, but to someone else.  Every Sunday I teach music to the Primary children in my own ward.  For 2 hours, I get those children.  For 2 hours, they are mine.  And then I have to let them go...  Thank goodness they all know how much I like ((HUGS))!!  A lot of them line up and come give me a BiG 'ol HUG before they skip off to find their parents.  And those hugs carry me through the week until the next time we see each other.  As a thank you to all of the kids that worked SO HARD to participate in the Stake Primary Choir, I wrapped up some Sister Bonner "HUGS" for each of them to take home at the end of Stake Conference.  In return, they each gave me a REAL HUG ... before they skipped off to find their parents.  I am holding on to those hugs and the sweet memories I made with "my children."  And I hope they hold on to and remember mine.

///

As for the date ... I spent it mostly unaware of what the date was.  That morning I was still feeling the high & the ache over the end of Stake Conference, I did a few chores and watched some crappy tv, and then I got up and decided to spend the afternoon being "the Fun Aunt" to my two nephews that were staying at my parents house for the day.  

We went to the pool.  We played.  And we laughed.  

Then they left.  And I went home.  

... And it dawned on me what the date was ...

I thought I was okay and was surprised at myself that I hadn't noticed.

But in the quiet and darkness of the night, when all the numbing aid distractions have gone to bed, and all you have left is the silence and your thoughts ... that's when it hits you ... and silently you let the tears fall down like waterfalls that have carved ruts on your face from the constant path that they make there.

I am glad that that date has come and gone.  

I am hopeful that there will be something to hope for after this.  

Otherwise ... this little Bonner Family of 2 plus 2 dogs is going to become the next Soggy Bottom Boys band since we feel like our official theme song is "I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow."   For your southern summer pleasure, enjoy a laugh at our expense. ;)