Morning

This morning I walked out the door with the two oldest, on our way to the bus stop. The ground was covered with frost and the air smelled like winter. As we rounded the corner of our street, we saw that the bus was coming. The kids had to run the last few feet to make it. I stayed where I was to watch them get on the bus and to wave as they drove by. As the bus neared where I stood, the bus driver slowed to a stop. She then opened the doors, and said with a smile, "Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family." I told her thank you so much and the same to her. And as she drove away, I stood there with tears in my eyes. Because she had no idea how much her small gesture meant to me.

Being here is still hard for me. Extremely hard. I thought I would be past it by now. But I'm not. Some days are better than others, but most are difficult. I think it is because the loneliness is intense. Without going into the reasons, we are just in a situation that is so beyond different than any other place we have been. And although we have each other, and that is enough most of the time, it is hard for everyone to feel so lonely.

So when the bus driver took the time to be so kind to me, it left me teary. Because standing by the side of the street, I suddenly felt better about things than I have in a long time. I stood there for a few seconds, focusing on how I felt and taking in the amazing feeling of seasons changing. Both outdoors, and hopefully, in my heart.

One of the favorite talks from this past general conference was by Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin. Come What May, and Love It. I am trying hard to do that. Because I know that the Lord knows how I feel. And that this is hard for me. And I know that He can heal my heart when the time is right. But that it is up to me to be in a position to let Him. And this morning, I felt like I just might be getting a little closer.