We have been so busy living life, there has been very little time to record it, even on a blog.
When the emotional content is great, my tendency is to remain silent. I just feel, cry & take long walks, cry, work, pray, teach children to sing & dance to music, cry, pack boxes, hug my sweetheart, meditate, pray, call/text my kids, cry, hug my children and cry some more. I try to be careful where & when I allow myself to be tearful, not everyone understands or can tolerate intense emotion. I don't want to make others uncomfortable around me.
A month ago, just after winter break, we received news from Jesse & Aleina that they were loosing their precious baby, my granddaughter. I needed to be there. I postponed a grade school concert (that had already been delayed from before Christmas because of snowy weather) and made arrangements to drive to Portland. When I woke up that Thursday morning, I discovered that the Seattle area was an island, all roads leaving in any direction were closed due to flooding. I cried. All flights out were booked that day, but I was able to get a flight to Portland at 6 am the next morning. I was grateful to be able to travel. Jesse & his father-in-law picked me up at the airport. We traveled to the hospital where Aleina was waiting with her mom, in labor with little Layla. We spent the day waiting for the birth of this sweet little girl that we knew would not live. After she was born and they took her away to clean her up, we cried together. They brought her back wrapped in a little pink rosebud quilt, like a precious flower that didn't quite bloom. When I held her, she was so tiny, so limp, so incredibly present in my heart.
The circumstances of her birth were far from ideal, yet, even while I held her and marveled at her tiny, still, features, I felt at peace. The pain could not remove the peace. A curious, intense mix of grief and pain, rather like a wound that is being well cared for. ..
This little child was so perfect when she was born that all she needed on this earth was a body. Heavenly Father took her back to him. We cry for those of us who are left behind. "Let us live together in love so that we weep for the loss of them that die." We didn't have a chance to get to know Layla here. But I know that we all existed and associated as brothers and sisters before we ever came here. I also know that we will enjoy that privilege again when we die, only without the blinders we experience now. We will see things more clearly, as they truly are. I look forward to holding this grandchild again when I pass from this life. The older I get, the longer the list gets of those I want to hug & hold again. Death will eventually come as a welcome friend, not an unknown stranger.
Last Sunday, we traveled to Oregon to be present at the blessing of my nephew Tom Smith's little newborn, Carma Letha Smith. My husband Tom was invited to be in the circle while she was blessed. My niece Heidi's baby daughter Katherine was also blessed that day. Little Carma was less than two weeks old. She was named after Tom's mother Carma, who passed away last May. She was also named for her maternal grandmother, Letha, who had previously passed away. As I held that precious little girl, tears flowed down my cheeks. My husband Tom loaned me his handkerchief. I sat on the front row with other family members in church and silently wept. I wept for joy, this is my nephew's first child. He has traveled a hard road. I wept in remembrance of my sister, this child bears her name. I wept for what might have been, my recently lost grandchild. I wept full of joy & hope because of a knowledge of the resurrection and the atonement. I wept for happiness for the privilege of associating with friends and family in that holy place. I tried to contain the tears, but they poured down my cheeks and would not stop. My nose was red & my eyes were wet & puffy.
I'm grateful to be sealed to my parents, and that they are sealed to theirs. I'm grateful that my children are sealed to me and look forward to this unending chain continuing with my children and grandchildren so that future generations will be bound together in love by the power of the Holy Priesthood. Little else matters but to love and serve each other with all our hearts.
As I read and listened to Aleina's blog this evening, my heart was filled, and tears poured down my cheeks like rain. I pray that her wounded heart would be bound up and that she will find increased hope and peace every time the dressing is changed. I pray for my son's heart to heal as well, and that these young parents will grow even closer together during this time of loss.
There have been many other changes, but they will have to wait for another day.
