Feeling your pain

I've come to realize there is a silver lining to pain.   Empathy.  It feels good to be able to understand, really understand.  It kicks sympathy up a notch.  It feels even better to be on the receiving end of empathy.  It feels good when someone gets it.

When I told my mom I was asked to be YW president, she said, "Oh, Thelma."

Because she'd been there.  She knew it was a Big Job.

When Braeden was born, I felt terrible that I hadn't been more help to Marianne when Clarissa was born.  I felt like I should have been over at her house every day, washing her dishes or something.  I hadn't been, because I didn't know.  I didn't understand how hard new motherhood hits.

When Adam's dad passed away, I remember thinking this is what this feels like?!?  I knew lots of people who had had family members die.  I'd always felt sympathy for them, but now I knew better how it felt.

Awful.

Yesterday Adam's sweet cousin Pam took Branson to the MTC.  Branson is her handsome and quality son.  He's heading to the Virginia Chesapeake mission to hopefully be companions with Braeden.  (Both moms have their fingers crossed.)

Pam texted me yesterday after the harrowing MTC drop off.  She said, "I'm sorry I didn't do more to support you during this time."  She meant when I took Braeden.  She always knew it would be hard, now she knows what it feels like to leave your heart on a cold hard sidewalk in Provo.  (OK, maybe I'm exaggerating.  Or am I?)

Anyway, Pam and I are in a club now.  We're in the mother of missionary club.  Our hearts melt a little every time we see a missionary (which isn't that often in Utah county).  We're part of the group that text each other pictures when we do run across a missionary.

Because we get it.

Adam told Branson to make sure he had his mom's cell phone number memorized so people could text her pictures.

Mamas need pictures.

So life can be rough sometimes, but isn't it nice that we have each other?  Isn't it sublime when someone gets it?