“Personally, I'm always ready to learn, although I do not always like being taught"

It's official: I'm weird.

This weekend I've been musing on the fact that I have a rough draft due tomorrow for my advanced writing class.  I have to pick a poem-any poem, the options are endless-and then find other critiques on it, then disagree with those critiques and then write a paper on that with a new, fresh, never before written take on the poem.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is a huge task.  Granted, the draft is only 1-2 pages of the paper, not a draft of the whole paper... but it's still a big assignment, especially considering I'm a poetry nut and I am so indecisive with picking the poem.  

What does this paper have to do with my weirdness?  I am excited about writing this paper.  It presents a huge challenge and I am through the roof excited to take it on.  I love writing, I've discovered that I love writing papers about literature.  I love it all.  I'm definitely meant to be an English major.  

Hurray for weirdness!

Also, thanks for the prayers and love, everyone.  I've been filled with comfort and I know my mother appreciates all the love and help that our family has received.  She is doing well...I spoke to her yesterday!  Things are looking up.  

"All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother."

This has been a hard week.

I have a very strong attachment to my mother.  She is the one person who has always been there for me without fail.  She's helped my in my most dire situations, comforted me in my most heartbroken moments, and laughed with me about the silliest things.  Despite her frailty, she is my rock.  She always has the soundest advice and can see situations clearly when I'm too caught up in them.  She is the reason I love cooking.  She's the reason I love reading.  She is the reason I love the Gospel so much.  I was raised by her to embrace those things.  Without her, I wouldn't be the kind of woman I am today.

As the years have passed, her condition has further weakened her, causing my heart to ache.  While I took two years off of school, I value those years greatly, since I was home and able to help her all the time.  It was hard and frustrating at times, but now that I'm living fourteen hours away, I'm glad I spent that time at home.

But still, my heart aches to be home.  It's spring break but I've chosen to remain in Rexburg to work and save money.  On Monday my mother suffered a minor stroke, leaving her speech slurred and the mobility of her right side limited.  I feel helpless this far away.  I feel alone.  I feel distraught that I'm not able to offer any sort of aid, that I chose to stay here when I had the opportunity to be in California at her side.  She has been there for me whenever I've needed her, but I feel unable to be there for her.

I've been to the temple numerous times, I've fasted, I've poured my heart out in prayer.  That's the best I can do.  The Lord knows what He's doing.

Photo credit: Miriam  

I stole this from your flickr account.  I'd say sorry, but I'm not.  I love this photo.