I played hooky from church yesterday. Maybe because I was too tired or because I had a ton to do before I went back to work today or maybe because I was determined to have a tangible thing that I accomplished over the weekend. We may never know. But, the fact remains that I played hooky. It made me a little nervous to do such a thing, because I have finally been feeling better, much to do with me writing and sharing about this experience and partly to do with another part of the story that is yet to come (it’s a spoiler, so I am not going to divulge) I was thinking that if I don’t give back for all the good that has happened over the last few weeks, then maybe it will stop happening and we will go back to crappy things. I dunno, does it work that way? Or do you get one free pass to stay home and just be home? I’m hoping for the latter.
So I left you with songs and quotes last time. They went on for the better part of a month, during all the planning for Baby Sisters funeral. Like I mentioned, I had one sister who was in England on business, 2 sisters who came in from California to help my mom and one who was living with my mom, then me. I talked to my mom and one of my sisters and would get each one of their stories of why things were chaotic and who the other one was crazy. I understood, it was stressful. It was hard to plan a funeral for a person who you felt was prematurely taken from here. It was hard to make things right for her children. It was hard to tell people how much she meant to you. It was hard. So I listened to them and tried to be supportive to them; but refused to help with any planning. I would take a task on, but I did not give input on any ideas. I just thought with all the people who thought so poorly of me that would be at the funeral, they would think I had no place in planning things for her. So I offered to help with small tasks that were someone else’s ideas. It wasn’t much, not near the amount of things that I helped with for my dad’s funeral, but I felt that was my place. And I was okay with it.
I had a few short conversations with one of my sister-in-laws who would call and check up on how things were going and how I
was doing. She kept mentioning a book she wanted me to read. I hate reading. If I am going to take hours and hours doing something I want to have a tangible thing in my hands as a result of all my time. I found reading to be idle. A waste of time. But she mentioned to me how helpful this book was for her and how powerful the message was. She briefly told me the story of how a man instantly forgave a teenage drunk driver who killed his pregnant wife and 2 of his children. That was all I needed to know to be sure that this was a book that I was certain I never wanted to read. I have never, never, never been one of those girls who likes touchy-feely movies. Would so much rather see Avengers over any chick flick. So, yeah, reading THAT book, was on my “things I will never do” list. But she mentioned it in several conversations that we had. Maybe because I was a hormone raging, sleepless, kind of crazy emotional pregnant person at the time. That could have been it.
Or it was just her so finely tuned in to The Spirit that she knew persistence was what I needed.
She one afternoon was driving by and stopped to give me a treat and this book that she had sitting in her car. “Let It Go” by Chris Williams. I kind of tossed it aside and thought, I will just return it to her after having it over here for a few weeks and tell
her I didn’t have time. I threw it on my catch-all-counter. I think it was a Tuesday when she dropped it off, Wednesday it stared at me all day, there mixed within all the other junk on my counter. For the better part of Thursday it burned a hole through my very being. Thursday night I was cleaning up dinner and I swear the thing was like one of those creepy pictures where the eyes follow you. FINE!! I will read it. But if I am not interested in this book within the first 2 pages, I’m not going to finish it. It was about 5:30, maybe 6 when I started it. The first few pages of the book was him having a conversation with a person, who I assume had a similar tragedy happen to them and he was trying to convey how he could forgive such a horrific thing.
Little bit interested. Good writing. I will read the next chapter. It was about 6:30 and I had a little time before Grey’s Anatomy was on that night. Then he flashed back to his life with his wife and children and the things that they would do and the way their family ran. It was sweet, he was a kind man, who was not afraid to admit that he made mistakes and learned from them.
Then the night of the accident. I was hooked. I hurt for him. I felt his loss. I was astounded by how he instantly forgave this person who took so much from him. He talked about going to the temple shortly after his wife’s death and how he so badly wanted to feel her spirit there, and the disappointment that he had leaving there. He talked about the low points when he felt such tremendous loss and felt so empty and lonely without his family with him. He spoke of going to church not even 24 hour after this horrible tragedy happened and how words came out of his mouth that he still cannot recollect, telling the members of his ward that he knew it was an impossible thing to forgive this person, but that he knew it was what the Savior needed him to do. He talked of how he told a friend who was doubting their faith to lean on his at a time when he had nothing to give, he was telling this person to borrow some of *his* faith.
It was amazing and powerful and inspiring. I couldn’t put it down. It was 9:30 and Grey’s Anatomy was done and I hadn’t watched a second of it and the amazing part was I really didn’t care. I wanted to read this book. I read on for about another hour. Everyone in my house was sleeping and I was lying in my bed using the light from my laptop so I could read. I was tired and I needed to have energy for my coming day. So I put the book on my nightstand and tried to go to sleep. But I was wide awake. I was running through every amazing message I had just read and how much it was so similar to things I felt and things I said and experiences I had. I was thankful for a sister-in-law who was so aware of what I needed even when I wasn’t.
Alright. Sleep. Must get sleep. My TV was on and was illuminating my bedroom just enough that I could see. I wasn’t paying much attention to what was on, my mind was racing with what I had just read. I started to stare into my doorway deep in thought and that’s when it caught my eye.
Standing there clear as day was Baby Sister. Right there in my doorway. I could see her face. I just looked at her for a moment.
She was just still. Surely it was my sleep deprived brain. So I focused on it for a second. It had to be a shadow of something. Nope, it was her. Standing right there. I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. Then this glimpse of that stupid movie City of Angels came into my mind. You know the one, where angels would come and get spirits to take to heaven. I leapt out of my bed and very anxiously walked to each of my children’s beds to see if they were still breathing. Stupid, I know.
It’s late and my mind is playing tricks on me. I said a quick silent prayer for comfort and lay back in my bed. But still couldn’t sleep. I opened my eyes and looked in my door way again and there she was. I looked at her right in the eyes and got a rush of warmth. I wasn’t afraid any longer. She looked at me for just a second then slowly turned her face towards my nightstand where the book was. Then looked back at me and smiled, but not the kind of smile that expresses happiness. More the kind of smile that begs. So I picked up the book and continued reading. I think I stayed up until 2 am that morning to finish it. I would glance up in my doorway occasionally but she was gone. She made it known what she wanted me to do. She needed me to finish the book. She needed me to hear the whole message of despair, forgiveness, healing and finding joy again.
It was absolutely the most astounding book that I have ever read. There were so many things that I had experienced that was in
this book. Such similarities in things that I said to others around me and things that were said to me. There were much more things that I cherished from this book, but they were private and personal and things that I keep to myself.
A few days after I read the book I found out that alcohol was a key factor in how Baby Sister’s accident happened. I can’t say more than that because the case is still pending. N the moment that I fond out about this detail of her death, I was angry, I felt robbed, and then I pictured her standing in the doorway and realized that there were other reasons that she wanted me to read that book. I think she knew that I would be angry and troubled by this detail of her death, but after reading the book and hearing the whole message I knew that it was not my burden to carry. She, once again, healed me.
I saw Baby Sister a few more times in the doorway of my room. She and I would just look at each other for a fraction of a second and she would be gone. There is a line in my patriarchal blessing that says that sometimes it is hard to hide the veil from me. I know that this is what it was talking about. It was those instances that I got a little too close. Or those times that I could hear her whispering to me. I was too close. It is a comforting reminder that there is more out there.
I am thankful for those glimpses. I am thankful for messengers. I am thankful for forgiveness. I am thankful for Baby Sister.
So I left you with songs and quotes last time. They went on for the better part of a month, during all the planning for Baby Sisters funeral. Like I mentioned, I had one sister who was in England on business, 2 sisters who came in from California to help my mom and one who was living with my mom, then me. I talked to my mom and one of my sisters and would get each one of their stories of why things were chaotic and who the other one was crazy. I understood, it was stressful. It was hard to plan a funeral for a person who you felt was prematurely taken from here. It was hard to make things right for her children. It was hard to tell people how much she meant to you. It was hard. So I listened to them and tried to be supportive to them; but refused to help with any planning. I would take a task on, but I did not give input on any ideas. I just thought with all the people who thought so poorly of me that would be at the funeral, they would think I had no place in planning things for her. So I offered to help with small tasks that were someone else’s ideas. It wasn’t much, not near the amount of things that I helped with for my dad’s funeral, but I felt that was my place. And I was okay with it.
I had a few short conversations with one of my sister-in-laws who would call and check up on how things were going and how I
was doing. She kept mentioning a book she wanted me to read. I hate reading. If I am going to take hours and hours doing something I want to have a tangible thing in my hands as a result of all my time. I found reading to be idle. A waste of time. But she mentioned to me how helpful this book was for her and how powerful the message was. She briefly told me the story of how a man instantly forgave a teenage drunk driver who killed his pregnant wife and 2 of his children. That was all I needed to know to be sure that this was a book that I was certain I never wanted to read. I have never, never, never been one of those girls who likes touchy-feely movies. Would so much rather see Avengers over any chick flick. So, yeah, reading THAT book, was on my “things I will never do” list. But she mentioned it in several conversations that we had. Maybe because I was a hormone raging, sleepless, kind of crazy emotional pregnant person at the time. That could have been it.
Or it was just her so finely tuned in to The Spirit that she knew persistence was what I needed.
She one afternoon was driving by and stopped to give me a treat and this book that she had sitting in her car. “Let It Go” by Chris Williams. I kind of tossed it aside and thought, I will just return it to her after having it over here for a few weeks and tell
her I didn’t have time. I threw it on my catch-all-counter. I think it was a Tuesday when she dropped it off, Wednesday it stared at me all day, there mixed within all the other junk on my counter. For the better part of Thursday it burned a hole through my very being. Thursday night I was cleaning up dinner and I swear the thing was like one of those creepy pictures where the eyes follow you. FINE!! I will read it. But if I am not interested in this book within the first 2 pages, I’m not going to finish it. It was about 5:30, maybe 6 when I started it. The first few pages of the book was him having a conversation with a person, who I assume had a similar tragedy happen to them and he was trying to convey how he could forgive such a horrific thing.
Little bit interested. Good writing. I will read the next chapter. It was about 6:30 and I had a little time before Grey’s Anatomy was on that night. Then he flashed back to his life with his wife and children and the things that they would do and the way their family ran. It was sweet, he was a kind man, who was not afraid to admit that he made mistakes and learned from them.
Then the night of the accident. I was hooked. I hurt for him. I felt his loss. I was astounded by how he instantly forgave this person who took so much from him. He talked about going to the temple shortly after his wife’s death and how he so badly wanted to feel her spirit there, and the disappointment that he had leaving there. He talked about the low points when he felt such tremendous loss and felt so empty and lonely without his family with him. He spoke of going to church not even 24 hour after this horrible tragedy happened and how words came out of his mouth that he still cannot recollect, telling the members of his ward that he knew it was an impossible thing to forgive this person, but that he knew it was what the Savior needed him to do. He talked of how he told a friend who was doubting their faith to lean on his at a time when he had nothing to give, he was telling this person to borrow some of *his* faith.
It was amazing and powerful and inspiring. I couldn’t put it down. It was 9:30 and Grey’s Anatomy was done and I hadn’t watched a second of it and the amazing part was I really didn’t care. I wanted to read this book. I read on for about another hour. Everyone in my house was sleeping and I was lying in my bed using the light from my laptop so I could read. I was tired and I needed to have energy for my coming day. So I put the book on my nightstand and tried to go to sleep. But I was wide awake. I was running through every amazing message I had just read and how much it was so similar to things I felt and things I said and experiences I had. I was thankful for a sister-in-law who was so aware of what I needed even when I wasn’t.
Alright. Sleep. Must get sleep. My TV was on and was illuminating my bedroom just enough that I could see. I wasn’t paying much attention to what was on, my mind was racing with what I had just read. I started to stare into my doorway deep in thought and that’s when it caught my eye.
Standing there clear as day was Baby Sister. Right there in my doorway. I could see her face. I just looked at her for a moment.
She was just still. Surely it was my sleep deprived brain. So I focused on it for a second. It had to be a shadow of something. Nope, it was her. Standing right there. I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. Then this glimpse of that stupid movie City of Angels came into my mind. You know the one, where angels would come and get spirits to take to heaven. I leapt out of my bed and very anxiously walked to each of my children’s beds to see if they were still breathing. Stupid, I know.
It’s late and my mind is playing tricks on me. I said a quick silent prayer for comfort and lay back in my bed. But still couldn’t sleep. I opened my eyes and looked in my door way again and there she was. I looked at her right in the eyes and got a rush of warmth. I wasn’t afraid any longer. She looked at me for just a second then slowly turned her face towards my nightstand where the book was. Then looked back at me and smiled, but not the kind of smile that expresses happiness. More the kind of smile that begs. So I picked up the book and continued reading. I think I stayed up until 2 am that morning to finish it. I would glance up in my doorway occasionally but she was gone. She made it known what she wanted me to do. She needed me to finish the book. She needed me to hear the whole message of despair, forgiveness, healing and finding joy again.
It was absolutely the most astounding book that I have ever read. There were so many things that I had experienced that was in
this book. Such similarities in things that I said to others around me and things that were said to me. There were much more things that I cherished from this book, but they were private and personal and things that I keep to myself.
A few days after I read the book I found out that alcohol was a key factor in how Baby Sister’s accident happened. I can’t say more than that because the case is still pending. N the moment that I fond out about this detail of her death, I was angry, I felt robbed, and then I pictured her standing in the doorway and realized that there were other reasons that she wanted me to read that book. I think she knew that I would be angry and troubled by this detail of her death, but after reading the book and hearing the whole message I knew that it was not my burden to carry. She, once again, healed me.
I saw Baby Sister a few more times in the doorway of my room. She and I would just look at each other for a fraction of a second and she would be gone. There is a line in my patriarchal blessing that says that sometimes it is hard to hide the veil from me. I know that this is what it was talking about. It was those instances that I got a little too close. Or those times that I could hear her whispering to me. I was too close. It is a comforting reminder that there is more out there.
I am thankful for those glimpses. I am thankful for messengers. I am thankful for forgiveness. I am thankful for Baby Sister.
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