Unkind

I was patently unkind to somebody today. There is a woman on the LDS message board that I frequent, and she has occasionally gotten on my nerves. I find her to be somewhat whiny and pretty unappreciative of the blessings that she has been given. Of course, who am I to judge? This woman has an entire life to live, and I only see a very small portion of it on this message board. In my defense, I was bothered by this woman long before Ammon died, so I can't blame it entirely on my heightened grieving status. I'm not proud of it, but in my hurt and anger I used the comparative anonymity of the message board to lash out at somebody who can't lash back. I know without the entire back story, the situation won't make sense, but I feel compelled to explain myself here. This woman has complained about her husband many times in the course of the two years I have been a part of the board family. She often laments his lack of consideration for her, and his careless attitude when it comes to her feelings. I can sympathize with these emotions, I really can. I can't empathize, because I was blessing to be married to a man who didn't take my emotions and my wants lightly, but I can imagine what a heartache it would be to marry a man who did. The thing is--Ammon wasn't always like that. There was a time when he was cruel to me, and took our relationship for granted. There was a time when I honestly thought we couldn't possibly stand the test of time, and when I didn't want him anywhere near me. Thankfully, blessedly, those times passed. When things reached a head, we sought counseling and made our marriage--and our family--more placid and perfect than I ever imagined possible. Since then, but especially since Ammon left us so suddenly, I have very little tolerance for people who aren't willing to put the same amount of work into their own marriages. This woman, I feel, is one such person. She made the decision months ago that rather than be patient and suffer through a home renovation that she wasn't in favor of in the first place, she would punish her husband by abandoning him and visiting with family for two months. Now, a month into the separation, she is complaining about being lonely and missing home and husband. I lost it. I was beyond irritated that somebody could willingly, knowingly, and intentionally make the decision to separate themselves and three children from the father and husband in their lives, and then have the nerve to complain about it. So I snapped. I was unkind and cruel to her in my reply, and though I'm not proud of it, it was nice to get it off my chest. Never, ever, ever take your family for granted. Ammon and I got on our knees every single night and thanked the Lord for the blessing of our relationship. We thanked the Lord for daily for our marriage, our love for each other, and the gift of each other in our lives. We wrote to each other often about our gratitude for each other, and the sacrifices that were made every day in the name of our happy family. It's not that difficult. Our relationship wasn't loving and functional because of luck, it was because we WORKED to make it that way. We worked every day, every week, and every year to make it better. Our marriage, our love, is sacred. We knew that while he was still here, and we still know it now that we are parted. I have little to no tolerance for people who complain about their own fixable, manageable, and tolerable problems. Perhaps I never will.