Betsy Births Another Young-Adult

Remember back when Clark left on his mission and I cried for four months-- multiple times a day! And I'm not a depressive personality type-- so that's not really my M.O.  When I finally started to pull myself back together I figured that the trouble had been me, mourning the loss of our family as I had known it.  It wouldn't ever be the same again.  And at the time, I couldn't imagine family life could ever be better than it was right then-- everyone living under one roof with so much laughter and activity and chaos.  I felt that we had reached the pinnacle of family life enjoyment. 
But I was wrong.  Clark grew and developed and has flourished.  The "rise to power" of the Foxy Ladies and those relationships has been one of the greatest joys of my life.  Our family has been greatly blessed during Clark's service.  Every single person is in a better place than they were when he left.

So on the eve of Bethany's departure for BYU-Idaho, I had very similar feelings to when Clark left almost two years ago.  THIS IS SO GOOD!  I don't see how it can get any better than this.  Gratefully, I have a little more perspective now than I did then.  Regardless of how I am feeling, I firmly believe and have hope that God is all about an ever-widening, ever-increasing, ever-upward trajectory.  He can make all things work together for our good.  He can make this good for Bethany and good for me and good for our family.  I will shed my tears and hurt from the separation of a dear daughter, whom I treasure and delight in, but I am anxious and curious to see how He will make us bigger and better than we all were before. 

So as she has been meticulously planning and packing and preparing, I've been grieving the end of a beautiful era.   Please understand, I don't want her to stay at home.  She doesn't really fit here as a child in our home anymore.  I have treasured the advice my aunt gave me about young adults--
1.  They need to spread their wings and your house isn't large enough.
2.  Young adulthood is messy;  it's best if you don't observe it close up.
I think that is some dang good advice. 

So with that, she and I were off on a two day adventure north to Rexburg, Idaho. 

It was absolutely heavenly.  ALL THE FEELS!  We laughed a lot.  We cried a lot.  We talked about things of eternal significance and little things that humored and entertained us.  We listened to her perfectly curated playlist entitled, "Bethany's gone"-- filled with 50 songs perfectly suited to pull the heart strings and buoy up a young lady leaving home for the first time. 

We couldn't move her into her apartment quite yet (a rather long and boring story that I'll touch on later).  But we went by and peeked in the windows.  It is super close to campus-- especially to the buildings where she will have classes.  Abe did a really good job of helping her figure out where to live and which classes to register for as a music major. 
We visited the bookstore and walked all around campus finding each of her classrooms. 

We had some time to kill that evening.  We considered a movie... nah.
We saw a sign for pirate-themed, glow-in-the-dark miniature golf.  Awww, yeah!

And then we got silly and we had so much fun together. First it was miniature golf...
I don't want to brag or anything, but I totally won.

... which went so well, that next we tried bowling.  Bethany is one of, if not the worst bowlers I've ever had the misfortune to bowl with!  Kidding... not kidding.  She won't be offended that I said that.  But on her last frame she got a strike and followed it with two more strikes! What the heck?  It was a miracle!  I still won, but not by much.

Next up:  Virtual reality.  For the record, she wiped the floor with me in Beat Saber.  Not even a contest.

Air hockey and Big Buck went in Bethany's favor as well. 

Dance-Dance-Revolution surprisingly went to me!  Mostly because it was hard for Bethany to do any "dance" moves that were that simple and slow.  No matter-- I'll take it!
After our fun and games we grabbed some dinner at Del Taco (you know I had me some chicken soft tacos:) We stayed at a local hotel and watched a silly movie I'd rather not confess to at this time and had our final mother/daughter snuggle and cried some more.  Don't judge.  We are both criers when we need to process a lot of emotion.  We kept acknowledging to each other that nothing was "wrong" per say.  Rather we were just so grateful to how good it has been.  We've been lucky and blessed and we know it.

Forgive me while I gush for a minute.  She made raising her too easy.  She has been a contented soul.  Happy.  Responsible.  Kind.  Talented.  Driven.  Playful.  Cool.  Authentic.  Organized.  Smart.  Beautiful.  Sensitive.  Spiritual.  Obedient.  A friend to many, including her parents.  An example.  We have been so fortunate to have her in our home for 18 short years.  I relish being in her company.  Talking and laughing with her. 
The next morning it was time to say goodbye and I was sort of a mess.  She told me how comfortable she already felt at BYU-Idaho.  We agreed over and over how wonderful it was for her to be there.  How well she was going to do.  I told her again how proud and happy Abe and I were for her.  How she was prepared and entering college under ideal circumstances with full tuition scholarship.  How exciting a time this is.  And we kept saying, "It couldn't be better."  And we meant it. Everything about the situation is ideal, and yet I could't stop crying and it broke my heart to say goodbye. 
Oh!  For crying out loud!  I know I am high drama right now!
But hear me out.  I worked out a little theory.  I call it the theory of Birthing Young Adults.  I thought about this when we were having lunch with Jesse (Abe's just younger brother ) and his wife Amy just a couple weeks ago.  We both have a 20 year old and an 18 year old.  We used to sit for hours and talk about our babies and what we were going to name them and what they looked like and what their little personalities were.  What stages of development they were in, what they liked to eat, how many hours a night they slept. 
And now we found ourselves sharing what our new young adults were up to.  What were their plans for school?  Where were they living?  Who were they hanging out with?  How were they relating to their families?
We are in this new phase and it felt like we were all done birthing babies and now we are birthing these adults. 
For 17 years I was having babies.  Roughly every 2 or 3 years I got pregnant and I grew a baby inside of me for nine months.  That baby was completely physically dependent on me for nourishment and oxygen and everything.  For me, pregnancy is scary.  Because you know the time is going to pass, but it is going to be uncomfortable from day one until that horrible day of labor and delivery.  If you are one of those remarkable women who love laboring and delivering babies, then perhaps you will not relate.  But I think most of you ladies who have birthed a baby will agree.  It is unpleasant.  You know it has to happen to get the baby here and you know there is no other option.  And you know it is TOTALLY WORTH IT.  That baby is going to grow and the moment WILL come when it's time for that baby to physically separate from you.  But it is time.  That baby doesn't fit inside you so well anymore and you really don't want to stay pregnant.  You just dread the moment of separation because it's risky and it's going to hurt.  You will birth an infant and you will be so ecstatically happy to hold that baby that is now separate from you.  But the event of separation is painful and you'd avoid it if you could.
I suggest that the senior year of high school (whatever kind of school that is) is roughly nine months of preparing to birth your young adult.  That child has been physically separate from you for a long time (since they were born) but they have been tied to you with emotional strings that have kept them always in your thoughts and concern.  You've had a strong emotional stewardship.  That last year you are getting ready to birth your young adult.  It takes months to get college or mission plans in place.  You know the moment of separation is coming and you know it is going to be painful.  Your young adult isn't fitting in the household very well, because they have gotten a little too big for the parent/child relationship you've always known.  You know the separation is necessary and good, but it's going to hurt to say goodbye.  But then you get to meet them!  You get to see who they are and what they want to do.  Just as you want to see who your baby grows into as a child, you want to see who your grown up child is.  What will they do? 

That's how it's been with Clark and Bethany.  I had dreaded that moment of emotional separation of saying goodbye-- of the change in the nature of the parent/child relationship.  And I'll be honest, it was pretty rough on Thursday with Bethany.  I have cried A LOT.  These young people have become so much a part of who I am, that to say goodbye feels as though I emotionally cut off part of my soul.  Like my soul has a flesh wound where they were ripped off.  I am not suggesting my feelings are good or bad or reasonable or healthy-- that's just the best way I can think to describe it.  I know I'll continue on and throw myself into running our house and loving the six kids (thank goodness) who I still get to love on here at home.  To be honest, once that wound heals a little, I will probably appreciate having a little less on my plate with one less person to keep track of and one less person's schedule I need to follow. 
I love Clark and I love Bethany and I am excited to watch them pass through adult stages and continue to grow and develop.  I feel so blessed to have them in our family.  The way they have bravely led out in setting an example for younger siblings is awesome. 
So now, roughly every 2 or 3 years I will birth an adult.  Hopefully I'll get a little more used to it and won't be quite so high drama.  And like pregnancy it will be exciting and challenging and horrible at times and totally and completely the best thing I've ever done.  It will be worth every single  discomfort and tear shed to see these beautiful young people continue to become who God knows they are.