A Glimpse into My Journal

I have been struggling to find words to write lately. I have a bunch of things swirling around in my head right now, and I am still recovering from my surgery. I have been having some really intense and big thoughts enter my mind, and I want to write about them, but I can't seem to narrow down what I am supposed to say, or just what I want to say.

So, for today, I thought I could just find some words I have already written, and allow you a glimpse into my world; the world of my journal. I blog, but I also have a journal that I write my scribblings in. I write more personal things in my journal. It is just raw unfiltered feelings, that can be anything I want them to be. I do believe in keeping a record of your life, and the things you learn. Everyone has a story. It is worth it to write the story down.

Today I will share with you a journal entry from July 1st, 2014; just 3 months after Charles died...

July 1, 2014
Mari's Journal 

Tonight I just feel grateful God has been good to me, and with me through this trial. I pray He never leaves me, and that I can be happy all the days of my life.

I have had dreams of Charles. When I see him in my dreams he is just as he was in life -- but in his most perfect and happy form. He is always dressed in normal clothing, not white. There is no difference in his appearance, though he is clean shaven? When I see him he has been in different moods. One time he was very happy and simply smiling at me, and another time he was more sad, and concerned, asking how we are all doing.

When I see him he feels close, but distant -- untouchable by me. Sometimes when I dream of him I awake happy, and other times I feel sad. I have never seen him with my waking eyes, but I have felt his presence near. The children say daddy is in the wind, because the wind has blown -- a special wind -- at very perfect and profound moments, such as at the cemetery. I have also felt him close during a priesthood blessing I received from my father. His name was said during the blessing and as soon as his name, "Charles," was said, I felt an extra weight on my head, and an extreme warmth filled my whole being. I know Charles was there participating in the moment. It was wonderful.

I was very lucky to know love like I had with Charles. Our beginning was rough -- the first year of marriage often is -- but after that, our love grew into something beautiful and profound. I absolutely adored Charles. I loved him so much. One time I told him, "I love you," and he said, "I know." (This was maybe a month before he died.) After that I said, "No, I do not think you do know how much I love you. But one day, you will know." When I said those words, a feeling came over me that he would, indeed, know how much I love him. I believe, now, as he has seen me howl, cry, scream, sob, shake, and pray into the night over the loss of his mortal body; I do believe he knows now, how much I love him. Right, Charles? :) 

Somedays I wonder if my brain might explode, as I try to wrap my head around the reality that Charles is gone. Somedays the images from the day he died haunt my mind. I try hard to quickly remove them, but sometimes they hover, and make me sad.

I am actually really happy. God is with me, and has been every step of the way. This journey of life has always been between me and God. Charles was a major part of my journey, but his death does not end my life. My life belongs to God -- it always has.

However, Charles has been everything to me. I lived my life with his welfare always on my mind. More than anything, I just wanted him to be happy. I loved it when Charles was happy. His joy was my joy. His success was my success. I was content to let him fly and become whoever and whatever he wanted to be. And he did many wonderful and amazing things in the short 15 years I knew him. I stand amazed by him, he always amazed me.

This was not supposed to be our story. We had a beautiful life, and a wonderful family together. Father, mother, children -- it was beautiful. Now it is just me, and the kids. There is a missing piece, an empty chair. I do not believe that God took him because he needed him more in the Spirit World; no, that thought makes no sense to me. Why take a young father from his family? Fatherhood is the most noble and greatest role he could fulfill. No, he was not taken; he just died. And so now he is being used for great good on the other side, and I am left here to decide how to best move forward, and how to do the greatest good with this trial I get to walk through. For now, I write, I blog, and I prepare for whatever my future may hold.

I feel God has a purpose for me, and a work for me to do, but it is not clear for me, yet.

May God allow me to see the way He wants me to go. I have many important choices to make, and I pray He will ever guide and direct my path... my future belongs to Him.

-Mari