Loss, despair, hope, floundering, flopping like a fish with panicked gills.

What is wrong with me?
Disgusting...the whole thing is, but I'll try to be succinct.
When I was growing up the ONLY time a grownup spoke to me ---was to tell me that I was worth nothing, useless, no talents, and probably would only serve society in one way, and that was not good.  So I failed at everything over and over.  Some streak of stubbornness I suppose. (I do have one=O).  But the one thing I wanted more than anything, was music.  I never planned to get married, have children, etc.  I planned to move to Aspen Colorado and immerse myself in music.  I loved the mountains.  A drunk man on a mountain is not so loud as one down on a small block with teeny homes sandwiched in rows.  My friends told me I couldn't sing and shouldn't.  Even though I sang in acapella choir and loved it.  I played clarinet it the school orchestra and loved it.  Even though I never played at home because when my Dad was drunk it was dangerous to pretend I even existed.  One might find yourself locked out or the clarinet in pieces.  But I dreamed.  And the more I read, the bigger my dreams.  But drat, I was failing at life and high school.

    A really wonderful woman named Darlene Larson (who is in her 90's living in Iowa!) took three years to gain my trust.  Bless that woman.  She called me in her office and said, "Do you want to get out of the slum you live in, or are you just planning to wallow and be stuck?"  My response, is "What the crap do YOU care anyway?"  Her reply "I don't really care for me, but if you want OUT, I can help you.  Think about it."  After two weeks I went back.  These were the days you never spoke about what went on at home, and bless her, she never brought it up.  Anyway...we made a plan,  I graduated with my class (doing 2.5 years of work the last year) out of 72 girls (All girl school - small) not pregnant and did so with a B average - the best I had ever done.  I discovered I was a poet, I could write.  Mrs. Barnes said I had potential!  Who knew?  That was amazing.  Unknown to me, my Dad had planned for me to go to Springfield College in Illinois (on the same campus as Ursuline Academy).  I planned to a) finish reading the Book of Mormon, b) head west and c) find MUSIC which I so desperately wanted in my life.

    It didn't quite happen like that.  I got a job as a waitress at the Local Steak N Shake.  It is so hard to change without a starting or ending point.  I knew now how to make goals, just unsure of how to get them to work for me.  I didn't buy a car to save money.  Because I ended up moving into a studio apartment with 3 rooms.  Wow, that first night, I should have been scared, but I wasn't ---- I slept better than I had my whole life.  Didn't have to be afraid in the bathroom, no screaming, no yanking me out of bed in the middle of the night for who knew what.  It was not perfect, but good.  I joined the church.  I started to change.  I really had to work at it.  I was loud, vulgar, coarse.  (Not how I wanted to be, but gosh how does one end up like Amy Braithwaite?  It takes a lot of time.

   Still, no music except for lps worn from singing and dancing and dreaming on.

   I got on a bus one day in February and for $50 made my way to Provo Utah (a three day trip), to be met at the bus stop by an eventual Beloved friend because he had such an influence on me in his quiet, soft spoken way.  His name was Merrill C. Oaks, brother to the more famous Dallin Oaks.  I lived with them in their home for 3 to 4 months and started about Suzuki.  They had a baby grand and an upright grand and violins and cellos, and music everywhere....also 9, yes 9!!!!! children. Music takes time too, and I had to get a job and support myself.  I eventually moved out into an apartment with 5 other girls.  I will be charitable, I think they really tried but I was a difficult person to live with because I wasn't really Mormonated yet.  I was only a member for 2 years.  But I got my Patriarchal Blessing.  Nothing about music in that.  Dang it.
I met President Kimball in a weird way.  Nothing about music there either.  Dang it.

   Eventually, I went back to church and started really studying the Gospel.  My life started to change.  No music yet.  Still dreaming on lps and the radio, but dreaming of the future when I could make music for myself.
    I met this sweet returned missionary to invited me to go fishing....this was in June.  It was hot.  It was the perfect date.  No touching, no cuddling. FISHING. which I love.  He wasn't much of a talker, but just a sweet young man.  We were both going to the U of U.  I was taking Institute Courses.  He was working every spare minute.  I was majoring in music history (some music creeping in there!)

    Randy and I married in 1980.  In August 1981, my grandpa in Illinois had a stroke.  We moved back there with our newborn (Collin) and lived on the farm with Grandma Irene and Grandpa Ernie until he was so bad he had to go into care.  We found a house close by to rent and stayed until 1986 when we left the midwest for good and landed in Moscow, Idaho and Randy became a Vandal.  He graduated with a BS in Horticulture and me almost (I had to have my 3rd knee surgery that fall) with 1.5 years to finish and now four little boys.  Of course, I had no idea how to parent.  But I did work at it.  Randy helped me.

    While we were in Illinois Randy went to a priesthood meeting where the lesson was about supporting wives.  He came home and asked me if there was just one thing I wanted to do, and even if it cost the world, what would it be.  Without hesitation. "I want to learn to play the piano."  He spent the last $150 in our poor checkbook and bought a 1902 Chickering Upright that sounded incredible.  The keys, some missing, vibrated with the strings under my hand.  I found a teacher.  I got up three hours early every day to practice and found a sweet teacher to help me.  I worked very hard.

    At the U of Idaho my desire was to be a music major.  I really didn't have the talent. (I didn't know that yet.) but I wanted it so bad.  I practiced three hours a day, whenever I could.  We had one of the first clavinova's for the apartment, so our neighbors wouldn't have nervous breakdowns.  The three boys went to bed hearing scales and Bach and Mozart, and Debussy.  I worked on and practiced to be ready for juries, (when you play for an assortment of teachers for your grade).  I got all B's.  Not so bad I thought.  One day at the practice rooms, Professor Buckvich (truly his name) told me that if I could really hear how I sounded I would quit.  I had no talent and I shouldn't be in the music department.

    At the beginning of the next Fall Semester I went to my first piano lesson and my teacher, who began so friendly and helpful had turned taciturn and disgruntled.  She suggested I transfer to Family Nutrition or something.

    It was heartbreaking.  I loved singing the choirs, attending the musical events.  I knew that there were LOTS of students more able than I was.  I just thought if I kept after it, I would get there.  I did not realize that though I may play, I did not have the genius of a musician.

    Maybe you can see where this is going.  I have now studied over 25 years off and on.  Randy gave me a blessing that if I would sacrifice my time and  play EVERY TIME  I was asked the Lord would increase my talent.  So what I am able to do is because of that blessing (and the hard work).  But I didn't have the genius.

    In 2008 when I had my little breakdown, events conspired to run me over.  They did a good job.  I found out what genius is and that I don't have it.  The pain from this was so great that I cut myself all over, but mostly where people couldn't see --- just trying to let out the grief that consumed me.  Good thing Beloved stuck by me.  And then Marley who was puppy needed so much care because of her abandonment issues, pulled me out little by little.  I prayed alot.  Went to the Temple a lot.  Then one day in despair, I asked, WHY, WHY, WHY cannot I have more music?????  I would use it for the church.  I would use it my family, in my teaching.  It is the only thing.  I wanted music more than family and children.  Heavenly Father said, No.  Not in this life.  If He were to give me what I desired, I would leave the church and my family, and my family was too precious to risk it."  I then had a series of dreams, where I saw indeed, He was right, I would leave everything for music.  I cried alot too.  I didn't have any tantrums and I promised the Lord that I would not bother him about this anymore.  I do know that I will have it again, all of it, in the next life if I am faithful.  It feels like such a long time to wait.....sigh.....

   But things changed.  Music stopped bringing me joy.  Riding in the car with the radio was no longer fun.  Singing in the choir was not fun.  Church music CDs were not fun or uplifting.  Maybe my calling is to lift others and encourage them like Katie Cronin, Ansley Tueller, Mallory Marx, Ashlyn Braithwaite, Sydney, Jackson and Jordan.  But the longing is still there for me.  I feel like I am drowning sometimes.  Sometimes I go play and realize shoot, this will never be 'good enough' why bother.  And I walk away.

   So I am still trying to find my balance.  Trying to find joy in my little talent.  Trying to feel like I matter in somewhat.  Just because my Dad said I had no talent and I would never amount to anything except a prostitute......can I still prove him wrong?  Gosh....it is the million dollar question.  I played my mandolin three times last week, but now without hope of playing with anyone, just learning a couple of tunes I think my grandkids will enjoy.  I sat and played hymns one middle of the night for comfort to my soul.  I know Heavenly Father loves me.   I just wish I could love myself with all this lack, and squashed dreams.  Pooky.

Crummies it is 3:57 a.m.  Tanner's baptism at 9:30 later.  I'd better try and get some sleep.

Michaelangelo said at age 89 "I am still learning."  Me too.  Mendelssohn seems impossible though.

I have a therapist named Arden Compton who uses the Atonement and scripture and prayer to help people through their life mixups.  He has helped me a lot and I plan to see him Monday afternoon.  Things are bound to get better right?  It's going to be okay right?  Even though those dreams won't come true until the next life?  I hope my friends love me enough.  I hope I matter and I hope I learn to like myself without genius.  I hope I find peace.  I went to the Temple yesterday and prayed for just a little joy in the music around me again, and peace about it all.

Cross your fingers and toes for me, and maybe?  Say a prayer or two.  I will love you for thinking of me.