I’m sorry Lauren, I couldn’t help it with the title. There are just so many things that go with the last name Farmer. But hey, I already paid my dues growing up with the last name DeCoopman. No need to revisit the memories of Mrs. Stone yelling over the loud speaker in elementary school “Arin Depoopman needs to check out in the front office.” Nowadays I just get strange looks when people realize I’m not Muslim.
At the age of five I met one of the loveliest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. We lived in a neighborhood that was short on children and even shorter on girls. We had a lot in common and easily became friends eventually answering to each others names because we were always together. Days of barbies turned to games of cops and robbers, then tanning on the front driveway, to dating each others boyfriends. Eventually we separated into different high schools and different groups of friends, but years later with busy lives no time has passed when we FINALLY get together for lunch.
Just a few days after what would have been my one year wedding anniversary with Brady, I was able to attend Lauren and Mark’s sealing. I entered the Jordan River Temple and sat with Lauren’s family. As we waited to move into the sealing room where Lauren and Mark would be joined together in marriage as an eternal unit, I held tightly to my mom’s hand.
If I told you that watching someone get everything you wanted at a time when you were mourning it most I would be lying. I held it together right until the end when I kindly threatened Mark to take care of my sister and to know that she deserved all the happiness in the world. That’s when I started crying. Ugly crying. You guys, you have to understand that when you’re in the temple you’re supposed to be quiet and reverent and having snot bubbles blow out your nose is not the way to do it.
I composed myself, added a little extra mascara and smiled for pictures. Lauren and Mark couldn’t have looked any happier. Their countenances were glowing and I knew that she had found a keeper. Once pictures ended I high tailed it out of there and took a nap. One of the things that I didn’t expect with my divorce was how TIRED I would feel. Processing emotions is a lot of work, and over the next year I spent my time either being busy to an extreme or sleeping for hours. After I regained consciousness from my long nap I took a deep breath and headed over to the church where the reception would be held. If you know me well enough, then you know I’m not a fan of wedding receptions. They’re awkward and boring and kind of a waste of time. Unless there is a major dance party going on, I’m eating some food, saying hi and getting the heck out of there. I helped set up some things and made small talk with people that I hadn’t seen in awhile. Then she came. My old landlord. You know, the one that lived right above me and the ex. I said hello to her and gave her a hug. She asked how I was doing and then proceeded to tell me that “She could understand why Brady left”, because I “did cry a lot.”
I’m not even sure what my retort was, but I remember thinking “Well no shit Sherlock! I was DEVASTATED. My husband was leaving me you know…Sort of a big deal in my book.” It had already been such an emotional day that I didn’t have anymore emotions to respond with. I called my mom and asked if she was still planning on stopping by the reception. When she came I pulled her aside and told her what had happened.
My mom is the first person I told when I found out Brady was leaving. She has always been there. Especially when I’ve been at my lowest. My mom is the person that I want around for all of the crazy moments in life, be they good or bad. When I told her what my landlord had said her eyes got big and then she said “Well…” An hour later she called and chewed my landlord out telling her how un-Christlike she had been.
In that moment my mom was my hero. You need to understand that my landlord was always tricky to talk to about these kinds of things. There were a lot of times that she carelessly threw around her opinion. On several occasions she let me know that she knew Brady hadn’t come home that night and that she hadn’t seen him at church. She even ‘offered’ marriage advice “Maybe you need to not be so clingy.” The list goes on.
To say she frustrated me would be an understatement, but I’ve gotten over it. So why tell you the story then? It’s because I need to tell you…
I’m having another landlord moment.
During our marriage David and I have not been blessed with great bishops. I know that they’re only human. I know that they try. I’m writing this to help myself see that I’ve overcome this type of situation before.
There are always going to be people in your life who will do or say something that will provide insecurities about your decisions. Whether or not their words and actions affect your words and actions is up to you. People are human. They’re stupid but they can learn. Give them the opportunity to amend their mistakes and give yourself the blessing of moving on quickly.