The Frightening Factor of My Love

Thursday, March 15, 2012

As much as I tease about what a little shit my son can be, the truth is, I love him fiercely beyond words. I'm sure my husband would use the same words in conjunction with his love for me. It's just part of the feisty package that makes us so lovable. 

Those of you who are parents understand that the love you have for your children cannot be put into words. It is too sacred, too complex, and too personal and amazing to be described. It is communicated only in the moments of spiritual connection with another human being. A look, a tear, a moment of happiness in the middle of a dance party in your kitchen to Linoel Richie that it knocks the wind out of you. You lock eyes with your spouse and the joy swells to overflowing. 

But that's what scares me lately. Peter is so PRESENT. He is my every waking moment--the exhausting and the elating. His putty-like flesh is warm and radiant and his eyes so bright with wonder I can see the reflection of my soul while gazing into them. His rosebud lips so perfectly plump and delicious--I can taste the seasons of my entire life with just the thought of kissing them. He is here. He is alive. He is motion and love in action.

And Lucy isn't.

But she was. And as much as I am "healing", there is an alarm going off in the creases of my soul trying to tell me that this couldn't possibly be true, to be healing, because I loved her in ACTION and deed and word and motion once, just as I do Peter. My everyday love and labor for Peter mocks my healing--because it reminds me of what I once had with her.

And then I don't know where to place these feelings. I don't know where they belong or how to process them or what they mean. It just hurts. It confuses me and amazes me at the same time that the human soul is capable of such juxtaposed emotions.

But I do think there is a way to embrace my broken self--living in two worlds. Living in the present with my son, and aching for the past with Lucy. I can celebrate that I am a dichotomy of character. Just as I love and accept other similar aspects about myself. Like being small but not feeling insignificant. Like being a Mormon but not ascribing to a lot of the cultural conundrums that bother me so much. Like being a loyal wife but still having crazy, wild, intimate friends of both genders. Like being a stay-at-home mom who loves to work part-time and do more than just mothering with my time.

People are full of dichotomies, and that is usually what makes them interesting. (Like my friend Wendy, who is a party girl, makeup artist, drinker, fast-paced L.A. actress who loves Glen Beck. Really? I never would have guessed. Made me think she was absolutely crazy--but yet it made me love her all the more. I love surprises like that in people).

So I guess I'm a lover of the now, a lover of my son, while a griever of my daughter, a lover of the past.  My soul and my love know no time or bounds and I'll figure out a way to embrace that without being afraid of it.

I hope. 


  1. WOW! Amazing words. Truly I am speechless.

  2. This is excellent. I've never commented before but I think this is your best written post.

  3. Yes, me too! WOW! I just love your writing and the depths of your soul! The closest I have lost is my MIL, but I can relate, in a way.....we miss her so much! I'm sure she he met up with your Lucy....she loves babies! Your friend in East Texas, Pam

  4. A true love on mother eye and i am spellbound to see this picture.
    By Vacation Quest

  5. I think you've found the right answer. That's how I deal with my own life, and it works if you embrace it.


  6. I love it when you write posts like this... deep and yet easy to understand. You seem to be growing by leaps and bounds.


  7. ps. and I don't mean your belly.

  8. best yet. you put it all into rippling smooth thoughts. kudos!

  9. Beautifully put dear Molly, though I wish you didn't have to experience it so palpably. As Tolkien observed, "The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now
    mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.” Grateful for God's plan that love will one day be the only part remaining (Rev. 21:4).

  10. You worded this post so perfectly. As I read I was nodding my head in total agreement. I can never write what I'm feeling like that so thank you for putting some of my thoughts into the perfect words.
    Love Ya!

  11. That was beautiful and bittersweet. Thank you for sharing.

  12. Amazing. Loved every word.

  13. You have such an incredible gift for conveying such complex emotions into writing. You are a blessing to those who go through a hard time, and those who know you and love you.
    You need to put something together and get published.
    I especially love this, "But I do think there is a way to embrace my broken self--living in two worlds. Living in the present with my son, and aching for the past with Lucy."

  14. Beautiful words from a most beautiful Mother both here and in heaven! You are amazing! Thanks for being so willing to share your very soul with the world! :)

  15. Hello from Molly's Dad in Moscow. . . sitting here with wonder in his heart and tears in his eyes. This daughter of mine is wonderful and never ceases to amaze me. "Good, Better, Best - Never Let It Rest - 'til Your Good is Better, and Your Better BEST." You my dear one, are THE BEST, and I love you like you love Peter. -DAD

  16. Wow - that comment from your dad is amazing!

    I really enjoyed this post Molly - I love how your are able to express yourself so beautifully.

  17. I don't have a youtube account or channel or whatever else I need, but I wanted to comment on that beautiful song you posted. Simply put, it was unforgettable. Raw, emotional, not to mention absolutely beautiful! You have a stunning voice! Thanks for sharing.

    I love your blog, and Lucy and Peter are about the cutest kids I've ever seen! (after mine, of course ;)

    Sometimes life sucks and I desperately wish that NO ONE has to go through the pain of losing a child. My dear and only sister is living with the grief of knowing that she will someday have to bury her son, who has duchenne muscular dystrophy. My own story is just an "almost", my son ALMOST died when he drowned last summer. Sometimes I feel like his life is just rubbing salt into my sister's wound. It is such a hard thing to understand, why some stories are "almost's", and others just "are". I'm grateful beyond words that God spared my son, but to this day I still get so confused. I definitely am not any more faithful than other moms. In fact, my sister is a saint compared to me. I do know that the "bereaved mother's club" you are a part of is full of the most elite women I've ever known or heard of. God knows the greatness of his angels and knows he needs the best women to care for them, even if just for a small amount of time.

    Before my son drowned and my sister's son was diagnosed, I had these same question of the heart, they just weren't as personal. I emailed my bishop for help and answers and I love his reply. If you are interested, I'll forward the email on to you. (

    I hope you don't feel l'm rubbing salt in your wound. Life really isn't fair, and I don't think it's meant to be. Sometimes it just plain sucks. (Inspiring words, eh?) I desperately wish you still had your Lucy!!! You deserve the reunion of all time. Take this life in stride, a moment at a time, and you'll get it.

    Jill Elies

  18. PS, I just read that comment from your dad and it made me cry

  19. I don't know what just happened, but you left me in tears. Your words spoke to my soul. Thank you.

  20. I had just stopped crying and read your post and started crying again. For I know it to be my future. I can't wait to meet you at the concert!


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