June 27, 2011 will be a day that will be forever burned into my brain. My parents were on their way back from a two week Baltic Cruise when my dad became very ill. They made it as far as the JFK airport in New York and my dad was rushed to the hospital. Twenty-four hours after boarding a plane in Copenhagen, Denmark, the hospital called the time of death for my dad. This came as a shock and was very unexpected. I have struggled with many thoughts. Regrets that my mom was in New York alone going through the hellish experience of a Trauma One hospital in Queens and watching my dad grow sicker and his body slowly shut down, knowing he was in pain and couldn't have more medicine, and knowing he wasn't going to live to return to Utah to see his family. I ached for my mom knowing the ache she would in turn feel from losing her husband and best friend of 37.5 years. Crying because my father and my hero wasn't coming home. Crying because our dog Rascal has gone into depression and won't come out of his box. Crying because no one should have to bury their father three months after burying their spouse, and yet here I am. Both my mom and I are now widows. What a pair we will make!
It's interesting the difference I have felt compared to when I lost my husband. I miss my father and wish things could be different. Maybe it was because I had a few hours to prepare for it, maybe it was because as I was pleading with the Lord the night my dad was in the hospital for him to be healed, a still small voice filled my mind and gently whispered, "You have to let him go and acknowledge the Lord's will. This is not your choice. Let him go." I've never had something so hard come out of my lips. I didn't want the Lord's will to be my father leaving this earth life, and yet the deeper part of me knew it wasn't my choice. Those dreaded words left my mouth and I immediately turned my thoughts to my dear mother. My pleadings then turned to that of peace and most especially to send angels to attend my mom and dad that night. I told the Lord I could go without angels lifting me that night because my mom needed them more.
It's hard to lose a spouse, and it's equally hard to lose a father. There is a void in our family now that will never be fully healed. As my mom so wisely quoted, "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away." I was raised of goodly parents with strong testimonies in the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. My father was and will remain an example of a kind, strong, and gentle man with a calm demeanor and an attitude of selfless service. He touched many lives for good. His example can now shine through my efforts to honor his name.
Life isn't fair. It wasn't supposed to be. Life was meant to be a learning experience for the spirit daughters and sons of God. We came hear to learn and to be tested. Everyone faces different challenges on varying levels. Each trial is tailored to the individual's weaknesses and strengths. The Lord knows us individually, far better than we know ourselves. I never would have thought myself strong enough to be faced with so many challenging trials in one year. I still doubt my ability to face the trials in my path and come out conqueror. But it is not my choice. The Lord has promised He will not give us anything that we cannot handle. Sometimes I question His judgement in the midst of my trials. But I'm learning a new level of faith and trust in the Lord.
I know God lives and loves me. I know He loves me more than I can comprehend. I know there is life after death and that families can and will be together forever. My father will always be my father. He'll be there to help me in times of need, just as my husband, Reed is there to help me in times of need. The veil that shields our eyes from the other side is thinner than I ever imagined it could be. The comfort the Holy Ghost brings is a tender mercy and a divine gift. Christ suffered in Gethsemane not only for our sins, but for our pains and sorrows as well. Just as Christ rose and lives again, so can each of us live. Our journey and life do not end with our final mortal breath. I know I will see my family again. I am so grateful for the gospel in my life and the knowledge and comfort it brings. I will be forever indebted to the Lord for blessing me with my family that I have. They are a gift and a blessing in my life and pull me through when times are tough.
I know that children are a gift and a blessing of perspective. As my sister and I were explaining to my 2 year-old niece yesterday that her "Papa" was with Jesus and Uncle Reed in heaven. She innocently asked if Jesus and heaven were very far away. My sister gently replied while choking back tears, "Yes, honey, it's a long way." My niece then replied, "I miss my Jesus." How profound that statement is, from the mouth of a babe: "I miss my Jesus."
