Thirteen

Thirteen is an interesting number. For a seemingly simple prime, this is a number that has gained much attention and notoriety throughout the ages. We have heard mention of thirteen in ancient calendars, astrological zodiacs, and significances in Christianity. Additionally, the number thirteen presents various connotations in everyday life. To some, this number may be a symbol of good fortune; it is a number that invokes the magic of "Lady Luck". Similarly, the number thirteen may swell our hearts with patriotism as we reflect upon the thirteen original colonies, thirteen stripes on our beloved flag, and thirteen symbols embedded in our one dollar currency. And yet, there are still others who look at thirteen as a pariah, a number to be feared or avoided, a superstition, a black digit on the calendar.

This June 1st, when I come face-to-face with the number thirteen, I am not thinking of fortune, patriotism, or even fear. I am enveloped only with bittersweet reflection, and great emotion that I struggle to leave buried beneath my veiled surface of contentment and peace. Thirteen years ago today my mother embarked upon a new journey, and although I was left behind to wend my way without her, I knew that she had taught me well and I had to push forward in the wake of such great sadness.

As a young woman of almost twenty-one years, I summoned all my courage as I spoke words of hope, love, gratitude, and tenderness. I took the deepest breath my lungs would allow, tightened my jaw, choked back a tear, and uttered a goodbye unworthy of the woman who had given me life. Not able to look back, I changed from my dress of black into a gown of white, entered the house of the Lord, and in a whirlwind of celebration, melancholy, and resilience, married my husband and covenanted to move forward in faith.

Are there moments when I think that my lot in life is unfair? Yep. Are there hours when I miss her so much that I think my world will turn upside down if she doesn't come to fix it? You bet. Are there days when I look upon Xavier and my heart breaks that he does not know his grandmother the way I do? A resounding yes. And there are seasons when I am angry, lost, and bitter.

However, in spite of my emotional struggles, I question my progress over the past thirteen years. Although I miss my mother with a depth that words now fail me, I know my personal growth has been enhanced and a greater understanding of our Father's plan has been made known in my life. I know that miracles have come to pass; I know of eternal consequence; I know that Christ's atoning sacrifice is not only for the strong and learned, but for those with a wounded and weary heart.

I am grateful for the blessings of the gospel in my life. I am grateful to have the opportunity to visit the house of the Lord and partake of His spirit. I am grateful for the example of my parents and for the painstaking lengths they traveled to not only teach me, but to ensure that I would be honorable and diligent. Lastly, I am grateful for my role as a mother, and I can only hope that I will be half the mother Kathy was to me. If you are listening Mom, thanks for all you continue to do on my behalf. Your efforts do not go unnoticed. You inspire and challenge me. You are my lucky number, regardless of time, religious, or astrological significance. Keep the magic comin'. I am looking for another miracle or two...




As I was searching through some old photos, I came across this one where I was five weeks old. I have always loved this photo and the tender look upon her face. Or maybe it was just exhaustion...