ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS

Some nights are simply not good.

Certain memories become resurrected and weave through your dreams and waking moments - not happy, cheery moments of goodwill and laughter, but those you wish sincerely you could go back and live again and somehow correct this time the ugly words spoken aloud, overcome the feelings of helplessness, and calm the angry shades of exhaustion and sheer despair.

The entire year of 1994 seemed to be one bad memory. My husband was overseas in Korea, succumbing finally to his depression enough to be hospitalized and to begin treatment. My mother had moved in with us following her radical mastectomy for breast cancer. My oldest daughter had just begun college back west. Just after purchasing our first home, I had lost my high-paying job as a legal administrative assistant and was now commuting down to D.C. daily for a rather high-pressure sales job.

And I taught early morning seminary to a group of teenagers.

Now getting a group of young people together at 6 a.m. every weekday morning is quite an accomplishment - but teaching them from and about the scriptures at that hour is almost an impossible task.  I had attended a week-long seminar back at BYU to help me plan and execute lesson plans, but when faced daily with derision, attitudes, rudeness, especially at an hour that was NOT my best - following not enough sleep, two+ hours of my daily commute, being a single parent of two teenagers, caring for my own insane parent, and trying to deal long-distance with a suicidal spouse.....

It was not a good year.

And the worse part of it was that I did have a few students who actually did want to learn - who came daily to "feast" on the scriptures and were subjected to my impatience and irritation at the class' inattention and right-out rude behavior.

I felt, and still do feel like, such a failure.

And tonight those feelings are hanging around like dark damp drapes of emotion.

It's helped to write some of this out - thanks, blog.