The Package That Dried My Tears

I cry a lot. With the passing of time, my tears have become more frequent, not less. As the days march on, I have not lost my courage; but I have lost the ability to subdue my emotions. I wear my heart on the outside of me now, rather than buried deep and hidden away. This is both painful, and healing. But healing is painful, isn't it?

The other night, Sunday, I was feeling a little melancholy. I have been sick for some time now, coughing and aching. The sickness happened, luckily, right after speaking in Stake Conference. The next day the coughing began. I consider it a miracle that I was not sick while speaking. I am so grateful for that. With the combination of sickness and deep feelings, the tears flow more freely. It just happens, I can't help it. On Sunday afternoon, I was feeling so much, that I decided to retreat to my bedroom, and allow my emotions the space and freedom to be set loose. I do not mind crying in front of my children, but they were all happily building puzzles and enjoying themselves; there was no need to disrupt the peace.

As I was crying in my bed, with my blankets wrapped around me, I just felt so alone. Sometimes I feel so very alone. Sunday afternoons used to be the day I spent with Charles, and we would have extra time to talk, relax, and just be together. It is not the same now. I miss his company more and more, not less. I cried out to my Heavenly Father for some relief from my longing and sadness. I am really so tired of crying. It is exhausting. As I drenched myself in my own feelings, I heard a knock on my door.

"Mom! Mom! You have a package from Elder Baxter!"

It was Sunday, so I was unsure how that was possible. But Daniel happened to check the mailbox, and there it was. I sat up, wiped away my tears, and had him open the door. He brought the package to me, and I opened it to find a signed copy of Elder Baxter's book, a sweet personal letter of gratitude for speaking, and encouragement for my family. The timing could not have been better.

Sometimes my prayers are answered in the most miraculous of ways.

I have loved reading his book. It is written in such a straightforward way, just like how he speaks. I will likely be quoting it from time to time on the blog, because I really enjoy the messages he shares of "Being Still." (Something I try to do, but need to focus on even more.) 

Here is just a glimpse from the chapter on Peace amidst Death:

The passing of a loved one is, perhaps, the most significant disrupter of personal peace, made more bitter if that person has died young or has taken their own life. Of course we mourn, we feel loss, we grieve. It is sometimes said that the grief we feel will come to an end in this life. I am not so sure. 

At the memorial service for those who died in the terrosits attacks on New York's Twin Towers in September 2011, the message from Queen Elizabeth II included the words, "Grief is the price we pay for love." This is marvelous insight. 

When one is deeply loved, grief can feel almost overwhelming. Grief is, in effect, merely a reflection of the love of the deceased that is felt by those who remain behind. Such grief may abate in its intensity over time, but I am not convinced that it ever completely goes away. The depth of love will always cause some degree of grief, even though it will become less acute over time. 

The diminution of grief, as far as it can assuaged, is made possible through the comforting embrace of the Holy Ghost and a fuller understanding of Heavenly Father's divine plan for the eternal destiny of His children. We are, after all, eternal, beings. President Boyd K. Packer taught, "Mortal death is no more an ending than bright was a beginning." 

In effect, those who know and understand the central role of birth and death in mortality, have the conviction that the end of mortal life is merely the passing on to the next phase of our immortal lives. With that understanding, we do not believe in death. 

For Family Home Evening, I used his book to guide a discussion with my children. We have all been feeling the sting of missing Charles/Daddy more deeply lately. The reality is that our family is missing a central piece. I keep our family moving forward, it's true, but we miss having a husband and father in the home. Charles brought an element of joy and lightheartedness, that I try to duplicate, but I am not the comic relief that he was. We all miss his charisma and sparkle. We miss his charm and ability to love so freely. This longing grows more intense with time, and this is unexpected. The longer we go without a father in the home, the more the desire to fill the gap grows. We want Charles, but we know we have to wait. My children have even been praying for Jesus to please come back, so we can have daddy come back with Him. That sounds absolutely marvelous to me.

The other day, we had a conversation with our youngest, Henry, about daddy. I asked him where daddy is. William chimed in and said, "Daddy's dead!" Henry, who is 4, tried to process that statement. At his age, death is hard to understand. He looked shocked and said, "Daddy's not dead!" I quickly jumped in and said, "You are right, Henry. Daddy is not dead. He is just with Jesus right now, but he is not dead. He is very much alive." And we left it at that.

Last night, during FHE, I had Henry identify our family members. He pointed to me and said, "You are a mommy." He then pointed to Sammi and said, "You are a mommy." And then he pointed to Daniel and William calling them brothers. He also called himself a brother. I had to laugh that he considers Sammi another mommy, but oh, how true it is. We pulled out a picture and talked about daddy, and went through everyone again. I said, "Henry, you have a daddy, a mommy, a sister, and 2 brothers, and you! We are a family! I asked him again where daddy was and he said, "At church." I think we will continue to have some very interesting conversations as he grows older and understands more. He was so young when Charles died. He can identify a picture of him, and has been able to the whole time, but I know he is still unsure where his daddy actually is, and why he never comes home to see him.

With time, the grief does not go away, it just changes; it looks different, it feels different. One thing that will never change is how much I absolutely adore and long to be with my Charles again. As Elder Baxter said at Stake Conference, Charles will come to me. These experiences I keep to myself and my family, but it is true that he is with me and he looks after our family in miraculous ways. I am grateful for that connection, that will never be severed. I reminded my children of this connection last night.

In Elder Baxter's book he wrote and quoted:

There can be a relationship between those who inhabit paradise in the spiritual sphere and those who remain in the mortal sphere. President Joseph F. Smith taught, "Our fathers and mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends who have passed away from the earth, having been faithful, and worthy to enjoy these rights and privileges, may have a mission given them to visit their relatives and friends upon the earth again, bringing from the divine Presence messages of love, of warning, of reproof and instruction to those whom they have learned to love in the flesh." 

I know this is true. And what a fantastically wonderful truth it is! In his book he mentions how we can often become too much involved in being busy to have these connections -- we are running around too much, and not seeking peace in stillness. These moments will more likely come when we take the time to be still, and ponder. I feel this is wonderful advice for me, and also to be applied to my children. How often do children take the time to be still, and ponder? It must be taught to them, by example, and also setting aside time -- protecting time -- to be at peace. I want this more. I need this more.

I am in an interesting place right now of stretching and growing. But in order for me to not always be searching and never coming to a knowledge of the truth, I need to be still. I need to listen to the Still Small Voice, who will guide me clearly into the future; if I do not foolishly ignore the messages I receive. I have begun to shut out the noise in my life. I am taking stock, and kicking things to the curb that do not uplift and enlighten. Facebook is one of those things I have let go, so do not look for me there anymore. (Other than to share my blog posts.)

I want less worry, fear, and stress in my life. There are things that detract from my spiritual well-being, and things that uplift and strengthen me. I found it very meaningful that the message sent to me amidst my tears of sadness and worry was:

Peace, Be Still.