I felt like the complete mormon failure...

I haven't cried so hard in my entire adult life. Got your attention?? Yes, it was an awful day. Not because of bad weather, bad food, terrible news or much of anything. Just plain emotional meltdown.

You see, Valentines day in my household was a fraud. Meaning, there isn't a single card or gift in the house that wasn't brought here by my elementary school aged sons. The day progressed as expected--get up, fix family breakfast, took the dog for a long walk (sun was shining, I couldn't resist), come back, shower, shave, brush teeth, get dressed (with pink tie and navy suit) then read a book for awhile. Had a long debate with my 9 year old about why church is good for him, and worthwhile, and of course why we wear "church clothes." He was having a rough time of it and let me know. Then off to church we went.

We actually got there in time, and I'll admit I'd been dreading it all day. Some of you understand perfectly well what I'm talking about. Sacrament talks begin. My wife and I sitting on opposite ends of our family. The two main speakers were a beautiful young couple, married a whole 14 months or so. She starts, he finishes. Shall we say Love is in the air? The talks are all about loving our family, charity, being perfect wife, and perfect husband. Quotes of this, quotes of that, scriptures any RM could recite. By the time they finish, I'm feeling like an evil demon from hell. My mind swirling with every mistake I've ever made in marriage. Then, the Bishop and Stake president give their brief little comments. My mood just deteriorated. I open the hymnal to the final hymn and saw it was something about rejoicing. I snapped it shut and put the hymnal back. Tears flowing down my face, my throat aching. Kids climb over us to leave for Sunday School, I stand up and wait for my wife to gather her things.

We break into the flow and head out of the chapel. Someone tries to say hello, I croaked some sort of reply, and had I could, I'd have run out the door of the building. Lets just say I hustled. My wife, now behind me, says--"don't you want to stay for anything else." My reply, as the sobbing began: "I've had all I can take for one day." I walked as fast as I could home, literally losing it more with each step. Ran into the bathroom, slammed the door, locked it, and sat down on the porcelain throne and cried like I haven't for ages. I felt the pressure of failure--failing in a quest to be this great Mormon father/husband. You see, I'll feel guilty enough for the mistakes I made in marriage. I can easily identify them, and so can my wife. But what I feel worst about is the lie of deception--not telling the truth to her from the beginning. I heard her come in the door, and she can hear me at this point. Thank God my children weren't home. She begs me to open the door and let her give me a hug. Finally I did. I held her for just a moment like we used to. My mind just raced with the thought--why, oh why was the deck stacked against us. All I could say was "This life is hell." She completely agreed.

It wasn't over, the emotion wasn't all spent. I wiped myself off, and then had to go outside. I needed it--didn't need someone watching me. I went out in the back yard, and it went on, and on. Nature finally calmed me down. Green grass peeking up, the bark on trees I planted, bulbs showing a little green. Plus--I've only got so much of it in me. Came back in, changed out of church clothes, lay down on the bed, then got up and went back to living life.

So there you have it, most depressing moment of 2010. (Hopefully) I have a feeling some of you have had them too.