Hot Chocolate & Lemonade

Hmmm. Well. Now that I have some nine grain crunch bread toast and Italian amaretto hot chocolate, I think I can sit down to the cold keyboard and do some blogging. I have the day off and those that are leaving for school have left and those that have late night play rehearsals are not awake yet. Which means I have a quiet moment to myself - rare indeed.
My Grandpa passed away this week. I immediately thought of the last time I saw him a couple of months ago at my cousin's viewing (the irony is not lost, believe me). He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a big hug and smile, then turned and saw my little Shematite. Her eyes were shiny bright as Grandpa Earl held her face in his hands and whispered, "Beautiful!" His hands stayed on her face as he gazed at her for much longer than I expected. She met his eyes unflinchingly as he seemed to soak in all her glowing-ness and love. I don't know what they were thinking, but I was thinking, "Yes! She is the best part of you and me, and everyone that helped create her, isn't she!" I hope he understood that in some way.
Don't our children need to be smarter and stronger than we are? It seems that we constantly pour all of our knowledge and experience into them when they are "little" and then expect them to "wait for us", "don't run ahead - you'll get lost". Do things this way. It has always worked.
Work, shmerk.
The only thing that has always worked (besides my Dad. And he has yet to make a list!) is having faith in my Savior, and applying the principles of the Atonement as I try to live the Gospel . And understanding that there just might not be any real "trials". Just the adventure of mortality coupled with agency, which we all signed up for. So how do I learn to perceive trials as adventures in mortal learning and experience? Up to now I have HATED what depression has done to my beautiful Shematite. But I am hoping. Because that's all I really have, that .....
Well, no... let me rephrase that.
I KNOW that as the storm rages, she is trying to dance in the rain the best that she can. She is in the middle of the heat of the refiner's fire sipping a glass of lemonade (as we all are). I suppose if I tried to yank her out before she was done, she might not be as shiny bright as she could have been.
I have watched her and her sisters conquer mountain peaks, rappel down the cliffs of insanity, swim through slots of cold pothole water, hike huge sucky sand hills and heft heavily loaded backpacks all with smiles on their sweet faces! And willing to do it again!


So, bring me some lemonade and cheers to Grandpa Earl! I'm going out to dance in the rain.
After all, everybody's doing it.