Airport Connections
Not long ago I was flying to another state to take the bar examination. As it turned out, my connecting flight was in Salt Lake City, near where my parents live, so they joined me for breakfast at the airport.
Not long ago I was flying to another state to take the bar examination. As it turned out, my connecting flight was in Salt Lake City, near where my parents live, so they joined me for breakfast at the airport.
As I walked through the terminal to meet my mom and dad, memories of previous reconnections and departures filled my mind. I thought of my departure for England nearly a decade ago, and my subsequent return two years later. I remembered stopping in Salt Lake on my way to Washington D.C. as a Senate Intern—my second of five visits to the nation's capital. During my first year of law school we made the 3,000-mile round trip home for Christmas; our son was two, and our daughter was just a few months old. And just last summer I attended a conference at the International Center for Law and Religion Studies at Brigham Young University (a remarkable event I wish all could attend).
In each of these travels, my parents were there—to say "hi" or "goodbye" or to offer an encouraging hug or stuff cash into my pocket. It means a lot to me. I know they have plenty to keep them busy, but they always make an effort to spend time with me.
But it was not until my recent trip that I really understood why they came—why they always come.
Breakfast, Bagels, and Goodbyes
After our breakfast in the SLC airport, I finished my bagel and got in the security line, and we said goodbye.
But my parents stuck around. They watched me until I was out of earshot, but still in sight. We continued to exchange waves, smiles, etc. while I shuffled along toward the checkpoint.
As I meandered through the fairly lengthy security line, I couldn't help but wonder why my parents came in the first place, and why they wanted to remain with me until I was completely out of sight.
At first I thought they just wanted to show their support (which I know they do). But they had already done that—a hundred times over. For a moment I wondered if they had nothing else to do at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday. But that thought was quickly rebutted; I know my parents' tireless style, and I remembered some of the many things they said they would be doing that day.
Why do they come? Not because I ask them to. And not because I need the support. They come because they want to. They care. That is the only reason. Why did they stay? And watch me work my way through security until I was out of sight? Because they love me.
But it was not until my recent trip that I really understood why they came—why they always come.
Breakfast, Bagels, and Goodbyes
After our breakfast in the SLC airport, I finished my bagel and got in the security line, and we said goodbye.
But my parents stuck around. They watched me until I was out of earshot, but still in sight. We continued to exchange waves, smiles, etc. while I shuffled along toward the checkpoint.
As I meandered through the fairly lengthy security line, I couldn't help but wonder why my parents came in the first place, and why they wanted to remain with me until I was completely out of sight.
At first I thought they just wanted to show their support (which I know they do). But they had already done that—a hundred times over. For a moment I wondered if they had nothing else to do at 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday. But that thought was quickly rebutted; I know my parents' tireless style, and I remembered some of the many things they said they would be doing that day.
Why do they come? Not because I ask them to. And not because I need the support. They come because they want to. They care. That is the only reason. Why did they stay? And watch me work my way through security until I was out of sight? Because they love me.
Transcending Time and Space
Since moving away from home at age 19, I have not lived closer than 300 miles to my parents. In fact, I have lived more than 1,000 miles away for most of the last decade. At first, it was not easy for me, and I know it has never been easy for my mother. Moving away from home is one thing. But leaving on a two-year mission 5,000 miles across the ocean, and then eventually taking my little family (including my parents' grandkids) across the country for graduate school is quite another. Sometimes it seems almost permanent. But I feel their love, and I look forward to each joyous reunion.
Since moving away from home at age 19, I have not lived closer than 300 miles to my parents. In fact, I have lived more than 1,000 miles away for most of the last decade. At first, it was not easy for me, and I know it has never been easy for my mother. Moving away from home is one thing. But leaving on a two-year mission 5,000 miles across the ocean, and then eventually taking my little family (including my parents' grandkids) across the country for graduate school is quite another. Sometimes it seems almost permanent. But I feel their love, and I look forward to each joyous reunion.
Eventually, I recognize death will separate us—at least temporarily. I am grateful to know that God's "divine plan of happiness enables family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave" (The Family: A Proclamation to the World, paragraph 3). No matter how far apart we are—either in life or in death—I know we can be together again.
Moving Forward
A few months from now I will once again take the bar exam (hopefully for the last time). There are times when I feel discouraged, and doubt (or forget) that things will work out. But these feelings rarely last. Why? Because I get a phone call from my dad at the same time I am floundering or beginning to panic. He helps me remember I can do it, the power is in me. Or I run across a note from my mom just when I needed a reminder that things will work out (a truth she has consistently taught me). And they pray for me—constantly.
In short, I keep moving because they love me.
I would like to think I am 'all grown up.' But the truth is I miss my parents, siblings, and grandparents when I am not around them. I draw strength from their presence when I am with them. And I feel their prayers when I am not.
I want to be with them. Forever. Because I love them.
I know this is possible because He loves us.
I thank my Father in Heaven for His wonderful plan, for His Son who made it all possible, and for the witness of His Holy Spirit that this is true.
(read the full text of The Family: A Proclamation to the World, published in 1995 by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints)
No comments:
Post a Comment