God Bless the Relief Society

We had to come to Utah this morning. Scott's drain got caught on a doornob and was yanked out a bit. Besides, I really miss driving in Salt Lake. And surely, everyone at interventional radiology has missed us. I am thinking that the staff might even send us a christmas card, we are getting so well acquainted.

Scott's fine. His drain is fine. He started chemo today, and is tired, but fine. We are staying at Jan and Bill's and that's really good because Jan made eggrolls. I needed eggrolls.

So, you know that you are probably pretty close to your breaking point when: those thoughts that are best left unsaid come out of your mouth. Thoughts like, "I am going to give you away."

Closer still: you stop the car so the little angels can get out and find a new home.

Even closer: your son asks if you would ever really give him away, and you have to close your eyes while biting your lips in order to construct a loving, nurturing answer. (He allready has plenty of fuel for future therapy. No need to add more by being absolutely honest at that moment.)

I am well aware of how close I am to breaking, right now. I am so seriously vulnerable, I called in the big guns. I called in.........

(drum roll, please)

..............................the Relief Society.

Now, for anyone who doesn't know, the Relief Society is the biggest women's organization in the world. (Not that the women, themselves, are the biggest. There are just lots of them, thank you.) It boasts of, literally, millions of women, each dedicated to saving the world one casserole at a time.

Out of all those women, you will not find any finer women than are in the Lyman third ward.

So, on the cusp of breaking, I called these women. They did my laundry, mopped my floor, threw out all the moldy food, and wiped out my filthy fridge. In short, they will have saved me, albeit temporarily, from crawling into a hole and dying.

Truly, God bless the Relief Society.