I love the holidays. I enjoy Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas especially. I try to reflect on my upbringing and reproduce some of my fond memories for my children.
Here is fun snapshot of our children in the car heading out to Grandma's trunk or treat.
I am sad today though. I am thinking of my Dad and how much I miss him. It is true that your mind really cannot interpret time accurately. Even though it is almost eleven years since that dreadful day he returned to our Heavenly Father, the pain is still fresh, if not seasoned a bit and even deeper with my growing maturity and wisdom. Days are hard without my Dad. It is hard to go through life and to watch my family face difficult challenges without having my Dad physically within the reach of my natural arms. I feel cheated at times to not have him to learn from and develop our relationship, as I am now an adult. I wished I could see him tickle, tease and love my children. I wish I knew if he were pleased with me, if I am doing ok by him, if I make him feel joy?? I miss him. What I have now is his remarkable example and fuzzy memories.I named my boy after him. "Marshall" I long for his goodness to run through my children's veins. Death is a very sad event. Even as a Latter-day Saint, with a firm testimony that families can be together forever, I struggle with the pain of the loss I feel always.
I wonder how many events in my life would have been so very different if my Dad were around. Each baby blessing, my children's baptisms, the vacated chair next to my Mother at each family event, it really is so hard. But I know his legacy will live on. His righteous example, amazing energy, and constant service will bless my life forever. I know he sent each of my children down and gave them love before they entered this earth life.
I know at times he is allowed to peak down on my little family and give us strength we cannot fully comprehend. I know he loves me. I hope he knows how much I love him. I hope I make him pleased. It is no wonder that the Lord veiled our eyes before heading to this mortal test. If we could fully remember our life before, and we had to be away from our Heavenly Father's physical presence for our human existence it would be, I am sure, entirely gut-wrenching and heart breaking. It would be impossible to endure through the test of life.
Oh, but our Heavenly Father is so very wise. He loves us so dearly. He sent his precious Son to take away the sting of death. I know the Lord is always near me, though I do not see Him there. I know one day our sweet reunion will be worth the pain heaped upon our hearts as we long to be with our family who have gone before us. This knowledge is my definition of hope. Hope in the future of our eternity, with my Dad, with my sweet nephew Jack; resting comfortably in my sister's weary arms, and with the others that will slowly be called back home to our Maker. I hope in the meantime I can wait patiently, with hope in my Savior; the HOPE and Redeemer of all mankind.
I wonder how many events in my life would have been so very different if my Dad were around. Each baby blessing, my children's baptisms, the vacated chair next to my Mother at each family event, it really is so hard. But I know his legacy will live on. His righteous example, amazing energy, and constant service will bless my life forever. I know he sent each of my children down and gave them love before they entered this earth life.
I know at times he is allowed to peak down on my little family and give us strength we cannot fully comprehend. I know he loves me. I hope he knows how much I love him. I hope I make him pleased. It is no wonder that the Lord veiled our eyes before heading to this mortal test. If we could fully remember our life before, and we had to be away from our Heavenly Father's physical presence for our human existence it would be, I am sure, entirely gut-wrenching and heart breaking. It would be impossible to endure through the test of life.
Oh, but our Heavenly Father is so very wise. He loves us so dearly. He sent his precious Son to take away the sting of death. I know the Lord is always near me, though I do not see Him there. I know one day our sweet reunion will be worth the pain heaped upon our hearts as we long to be with our family who have gone before us. This knowledge is my definition of hope. Hope in the future of our eternity, with my Dad, with my sweet nephew Jack; resting comfortably in my sister's weary arms, and with the others that will slowly be called back home to our Maker. I hope in the meantime I can wait patiently, with hope in my Savior; the HOPE and Redeemer of all mankind. 
2 comments:
So beautifully said....you have such an amazing spirit Ann....I can't imagine having my children grow up without their grandpa. I must be honest that day scares me more than you will ever know. I am not strong enough....I read yours and Elizabeth's blogs about death and I am not strong enough to go through what you have gone through. I know the plan and I have a testimony of eternal families but the emptiness terrifies me. You are an amazing person!
I remember that day so vividly. I remember your pain. I felt pain of my own. Terry will always be missed by so many.
Every time I drive past a certain Exit on the way to St. George I think of his never-ending service - he had no idea I was there, but he saw a bunch of kids pushing a broken down vehicle to the exit and, with a car full of his own family, he turned around (up the wrong side of the exit ;-D ), picked us up and dropped us off WAY out of his way.
And when Gerilyn and I broke down in my piece of junk little car in North Las Vegas on our way to our graduation cruise, he came and got us, then drove us to like Barstow or somewhere ridiculously far away. I wish I could truly thank him properly. I can't wait to really thank him.
Love you! Thanks for opening your heart and your spirit. You touch hearts daily.
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