Description

Upon the Head of the Parents

In the summer of 2020, my girls and I decided we wanted to climb the Middle peak of the three Tetons in Wyoming. We called ahead and were told that it was a good trail and we needed no extra equipment. All went well and we made good time. Just before the Lower Saddle we encountered long, wide snowfields that we had not expected and were not prepared for.

I was leading the group. When we came to the snow I stopped. I could see where others had gone up ahead cutting footholds in the snow. I had a decision to make. Should we go on or turn back? The safest course was to turn back, but I saw what I deemed a safe route across the snowfield and back down. I made the decision to go on and my daughters followed me.

By the time we returned to that same field later that afternoon, the snow had become mushy, soft, and very slippery. Our situation had suddenly become very precarious. As we were making our way down, my oldest daughter felt the snow give out from under her and in a moment she was sliding out of control down the hill toward the boulders at the bottom. I watched as she hit those rocks at a sickening speed. Her legs folded under her and she catapulted into the rocks. I was horrified. What had I done to my daughter? A helicopter flew up into the mountain, picked her up, and took her down to a clinic where a doctor checked her out. She had suffered a broken tailbone, mild concussion and numerous bruises and abrasions, but she would be okay—or so we thought.

Fast forward about a year later and that same daughter began training for an extended trail race. One morning while running, she said,

The run was going really well, then for no reason at all, all of a sudden, my knee felt painful. I hadn’t tripped or rolled it, or anything. In fact, I was running on perfectly flat paved sidewalk. My knee felt very strange. A new sensation. It just simply wouldn’t work correctly. Each time I picked up the jog, my range of motion was just off, my knee didn’t want to do what I was trying to make it do, and the pain was intense and hard to pinpoint. I walked the rest of the way home thinking I had just overworked it. A few days rest and ice and I’d try again. This pattern repeated for 3 months.

Stubbornly, she pushed through the pain and ran that race—15.5 miles. She could not walk for a week. When she went to see the doctor he gave her this diagnosis—

A complete root tear of the medial meniscus and displacement of same. Basically, the meniscus is the cushioning between the bones of the knee. Mine was completely torn away and out of place. I had been running bone on bone for months and the MRI showed some pretty deep bone bruising to my tibia and femur.

It was the damage done when she had impacted those rocks in the Tetons. She was immediately scheduled for surgery. The doctor warned her again and again how bad this surgery was going to be. It would be a tough recovery and she would be helpless for a month. She thought he was being a bit over dramatic.

The day of the surgery came and went well, but the aftermath was so much worse than she expected. The pain-killer wouldn’t even touch the pain. She kept fainting. It was awful. She described,

It’s hard to describe that time. Some of it is a blur of pain and a haze of medications, the combination of which can really mess with your body, mind, and emotions. I did nothing but sleep (alot), eat (a little), and walk to the restroom and back. I remember going into surgery thinking I would enjoy the downtime and just read and watch movies. I didn’t realize the pain would be so intense, my mind couldn’t actually handle anything else. I would try to read but couldn’t focus on the words. I would try to start a movie and turn it off because I just couldn’t do it. How much effort does it take to watch a movie? None! And yet, I just didn’t have enough. I didn’t even call family or talk much to anyone (and I love to talk…)

I remember that I talked to her on the phone during those first few days. I have never heard my lovely and strong daughter in so much pain. I wept and prayed for her. The realization came down on me with great force that she was suffering such agony because of my bad decision back in those mountains. If I had opted to turn back, she would never have been injured and life-flighted out of those mountains. She would not be in such agony now. I had led my daughter into the worst pain of her life. Can you imagine how I felt? She does not blame me, but I do! I could have prevented all that.

The Almighty once warned all parents that if they led their children astray, the sins of the children would be answered “upon the heads of the parents.” (DC 68:25) In a way I never understood before I was given a glimpse of how those bad decisions would be answered.

All I can say is thank the Lord Almighty for repentance and for a Savior with “healing in his wings.” My sins are enough—to have to shoulder the suffering of my children would be incomprehensible.