Why do these things always happen to me...?

Back from a weekend that entailed mostly a trip to London Temple (down in Lingfield, Surrey if you don't know it). It is SUCH the trek from this part of the country (4+ hours...which is of course a short journey compared to some people, I know, I know, I know...but when you've grown up in Reading where it's a case of just over an hour and you're being smiled at by temple workers in white, it is a BIG DEAL!).

So, Celyn and I stayed at Rob and Kate's on Friday night (which is already 1 hour closer for me), Kate, Celyn and I headed over to Cardiff to pick up Gil and Eleanor on Saturday morning, and then 1 1/2 hours later we dropped Celyn off with the Pine family in Reading so she could play with Zoe all day (which she loved of course) and grabbed some breakfast munchables in Sainsbury's. Then 1 1/2 hours later (because of car-park traffic on the M25 at one point) we arrived at the temple. Which was, by the way, heaving busy that day.

So. So far so good. Par for the course. And the weather was lush.

As we walk up the corridor upon arriving, some men appeared around a corner heading towards us, and among their number was Bob Turney, an old and dear friend from Reading. I always love to see people down there that I know, so in my usual gregarious manner, I said, "Heeellooooo!!!", held my arms out wide, and we gave each other a big hug. As I was unclasping him, I said, "Oh, is Sue here as well!?" (his lovely wife), and then... and only then... I looked into his face up close for the first time.

This was not Bob at all.

This was a man that looked like Bob. But indeed, was not Bob.

The man who looked like Bob replied "Er, no..." to my request after his wife Sue (who is probably not...let's face it...Sue) and scarpered up the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him.

I, on the other hand, scurried off into the women's changing area after Kate and (completely forgetting myself because I was sooooo utterly mortified) practically YELLED across the room, "Kate!" to get her attention (because in the temple one should be speaking in reverent and calm whispers). Oh noooo, not me. I yelled. After accosting a total stranger.

So. If you happen to know a man who looks a bit like this man (who definitely is the real Bob), who is a Latter-day Saint and who is now regailing you with stories about a nutter redhead woman who obviously embraces people willy-nilly (and who probably needs glasses), then please apologise on my behalf. I really was horribly embarrassed and had already decided if I saw him anywhere else that day I was going to dive off into the nearest room. And if you were in the changing room and heard me yelling, I again would like to offer my heartfelt sorries *sigh*.

As my friend Debbie said when I told her yesterday, "If someone had told me that story without saying who it was that it had happened to, and then asked me who they thought had done this ridiculous thing, I would absolutely have guessed you." *sigh*

Funny thing happened on the way home though. Eleanor (who is 20) is getting married in July, so (as you do) we were chatting with her about all the plans, and we were asking about her dress. She said the bridal shop had been great, but "one dress they made me try on...eeeuuw! It made me look...well, it made me look 25 or 26!!!" "25!!!?" Gil and I said simultaneously. "Oh my goodness...25!!!? Where is this dress and can I have one??!!!!" Love her.

The temple was...difficult. It's where Danny proposed (kneeling on the bridge over the pond). It's where we were married on a beautiful summer's evening. It's where we went when we were agonising over being able to have a child (after 2 miscarriages) and received a good deal of inspiration on the matter. It's a place that's all about eternal families. So perhaps you can understand when I admit I did have a weep when I was there and the visit has actually left me feeling quite blue. I enjoyed the journey with friends, I loved seeing the Pines and Samara in Reading on Saturday, albeit fairly briefly, and I enjoyed staying at the Gilmours. But although I know I should go to the temple, it has such strong and emotional memories for me, I don't know how to overcome those feelings I now get of inadequacy and failure, which are multiplied a hundredfold by being there. And then I feel guilty for feeling like that. Any thoughts anyone?