Monday, June 21, 2010


I usually like Sundays. In fact, they are my favorite day of the week. Yesterday was not my favorite. It probably ranks somewhere in the top 20 for awfulness.

As I sat in church I looked down and saw I had forgotten to put new fingernail polish on. Every single finger except two had missing bits of polish. That's how it started.

When the Primary kids sang I thought, Maybe my grandchildren are going to sing in their ward today at one o'clock and I will get to see them (I was going to attend Trent and Michelle's ward at 1:00 because Meghan was speaking.)

Then I slept through the Father's Day talk. It was my neighbor who I adore, but I slept. I'm sure he was brilliant. I slept, just like an old High Priest with a comb-over.

Then in Sunday school the room was hot! The teacher had beads of sweat forming on his forehead and I spent the time watching them get bigger and bigger instead of listening. (I'm sure I'm borderline ADD.)

In Relief Society the teacher showed the twenty-six minute video THE LAMB OF GOD and it distressed me. I have tender feelings for the Savior and when I saw some of the things he went through in his last days on earth...well, it made me physically ill. Heartsick. For twenty-six minutes I watched and was sad and then sadder.

I was going to go home before I went to Pleasant Grove to Trent and Michelle's ward but I took my neighbor home and we sat in her driveway and talked about all the troubles we both have and when she finally went inside I didn't have time to go home--or so I thought--and so I drove and worried about both of our troubles. For twenty minutes I worried and fretted and mentally wrung my hands.

When I got to Trent and Michelle's ward I was way early. I sat on the second row, like they always do but they were late. They must be in the back, I thought as the Bishop started the meeting five minutes late--Mormon Standard Time. And indeed, the Primary kids DID sing. But, not one of them was a grandchild of mine! That's when I finally realized I was in the wrong church house.

I had to endure the rest of the meeting, BECAUSE I WAS ON THE SECOND ROW AND COULDN'T JUST LEAVE WITHOUT MAKING A SPECTACLE OF MYSELF, knowing Meghan gave her talk and I didn't hear it. The kids probably sang and I didn't see or hear them. The woman who talked in the meeting I was in was also named Meghan. She cried all way through her talk because her dad was so SPECial. I wanted to shake her. (Bless her heart) The man who spoke after her, made a feeble joke and then talked so soft I couldn't hear him, but to be honest, by then I was so distressed I didn't care.

After church I drove around, wondering what church house I should have been to and then I drove home--I had been gone from home exactly six hours--and as soon as I stepped in the door I broke down and bawled. For an hour I bawled. Phil and Elizabeth didn't know what to do with me. (Phil had been at his BYU ward, that's why he wasn't with me.) I sobbed and boo hoo'd and hiccuped and got my Sunday clothes all wet. I handed Phil his Father's day gift, unwrapped, and said, "Here's your crappy Father's Day gift," and didn't even give him his card that I paid three dollars for. I finally went to bed.

I didn't fix dinner. Phil ate leftovers. Alone. Happy Father's Day, to you, dear Phil. And because of my attitude it was a probably his worst Father's Day ever.

And so, on all counts, I was a failure. A freaky-nail-polish-peeling, sleeping-in-church, ADDish, despondent, going-to-the-wrong-church, bawl baby, ruining-Phil's-Father's-Day failure.

If you had a worse Sunday than me, then, dear ones, you have my sympathy and love. Of course, you have my sympathy and love anyway. Sympathy, because I know we all have trials and problems and heartaches and my love just because I can. And do.

Today is a better day but I slept almost all day. And now It's thirty-three minutes after 1:00 AM and what am I doing still up? I'm setting myself up for another tired day. I don't have enough sense--as my Mom used to say-- to pound sand in a rat hole.

PS After I got home from church I checked my cell phone and at 12:58 Trent had called me and also sent a text saying where to come to church. I don't take my cell phone to church with me.

PPS At nine o'clock Meghan called me and read her talk to me. How I love her. It was a great talk and I loved it. It was about the Priesthood and one part was about when her mom had been very sick for several days and Trent and one of their home teachers gave her a blessing and she got well. And then I worried...did I know she was sick seven years ago? Did I take dinner to her or come and tend the kids? I don't remember doing it, she needed me and I probably wasn't there. More failure. Oh me, what a day. Even the best thing of the day--Meghan's talk--and I find a way to make myself feel guilty.

And if you are a woman reading this, you know exactly what I am talking about. We feel guilt, even for things we MIGHT or MIGHT NOT have done seven years ago. Oh me. Why are we like that?


Laura ~Peach~ said...

fathers day here was of nightmare porportions... my children caused it... they left 1 and one half hours after they came ... one refusing to speak or even look our direction the other shrugging her shoulders and asking whats his problem... in the end the crock pot saved the day and mike and I had a wonderful supper all alone... i hope they live long enough to realise just how BADLY they behaved on this day ment to honor their father. and I remind my self THEY are accountable and of age and WE did a good job and they are making their choices and i chewed my finger nails to bloody stubs... toes look pretty good however... LOVE you and hugs... I have that movie somewhere here.... hummmmm

Pam's Place said...

Lynne, I'm sorry that your Sunday was so awful. I'm glad you finally got to hear Meghan's talk. Privately, even.

May you next Sunday more than make up for your last -- that you will feel joy.

Mental P Mama said...

I know exactly how you felt. And feel. Hugs to you. Your plate has a lot heaped on it these days....

Father Time said...

That was a good day. You want to know why?

It will make you appreciate the good but less than perfect days that much more.

And it will be a memorable Father's Day.

Colette Amelia said...

ohhh I hate it when those days happen. But it was probably building for a long time and you needed to purge and let out all the water that is causing trouble with the eyes...and then you probably needed to sleep all day...and Phil needed to comfort you as his Father's day present and Elizabeth needed to know her mom is human and not a super genius alien that is there for everyone and can do everything right all the time...

And Meaghan needed to read her grandma her speech one on one and feel special and hear her grandma tell her how special she is...

And those people in that other Church needed to think that their Church was so renowned that they are getting guests showing up on Father's Day without the Father part.

See you did so much good to everyone and instead of feeling embarrassed about the nail polish people will think that you thought it was more important to be with them than spend time with them regardless of how you looked...and anyway I just got to say who wears nail polish? I am lucky if I don't have dirt in the nails and hang nails and cracked nails from gardening!!!

So Lynne feel at peace you are too wonderful for words!

hillary said...

It could always be worse, there could be a dead man in the freezer.... what if?

Perhaps you need me to come over, except for I can't because I told Dad if he moved that car, I wouldn't come over anymore. Poor you.

Plus, our Fathers day was crap too. I blame MAX.

tearese said...

Oh I'm so sorry you had such a hard day! I would have done that in the other ward- stayed there so I wouldn't cause a scene- and then hated myself afterwards for my stupid social anxiety.
My mom always ruined holidays and birthdays because she was stressed out and angry at other things, then took them out on everyone else. I vowed that I'd never do the same, but I know I do sometimes.
Sorry, but I did have to laugh at, "here's your crappy fathers day present!" because it sounds like something I would say. I'm usually a little grouchy on that holiday because its always around my birthday and I don't want to share it...but I was very nice this year.

Bonnie said...

I am a woman who has had days when nothing goes right and all I could do was cry and feel guilty for things that never would bother a guy.

Even though you had such a crappy day--You are such a good writer, no one else could have written about it in such an entertaining fashion.