For Bryce...6 months and counting

April 24, 2009
What I Have Learned

Every time one of my children went out the door to leave home, every time I heard sirens, every time my child would be the designated driver for a group date, and every time my children would travel long distances or go snowboarding, or some other extreme sport, I would wonder if they would come home. Would they be alright. Would they use good judgment. Would they be protected from the carelessness or mistakes of others. It is almost like holding your breath until they return home again or call to let you know that they got there alright. Mothers are just that way. Just like the hen referred to so often in the scriptures that gathered her chicks under her wing. That is just the way mothers are. They ask questions that their children often don't want to answer. They remind and review safety and good manners. Even though as a mother you worry, for me I never really believed any "chicks" would be taken before me and that we would all grow old and take care of one another together. I don't know if it was that attitude of "safeness" ...that God would always protect us or what it was that kept me from truly understanding the pain and sorrow of others when they would lose loved ones but I have come to know that what seems almost as smugness to me now and that our family would always be safe has found me very much wanting as I reflect and deal with the death of my newly returned missionary son.
I have felt things I never knew were in my heart. I ache and wish for relief many times. I want to be myself again. I don't want this sorrow that seems to fill my soul. I want to be like everyone else. That is the irony of it all. The more time goes on since my son's death, the more I have learn how many have been dealt the same blow and quietly continue on and work through their grief. How could I have not known, I think to myself. How could so many that I know and love be feeling all that I am feeling and I not know. It has really shocked me to think of how my feelings of safeness and security because of the gospel have deceived me from the sorrow and tears of others. How casually I have sympathized and thought their grief to be temporary. How the Spirit continues to tutor and patiently wait on me as I work through my own grief by reaching out to others. How wonderful it is that in reaching out, I am able to find relief from my own grief. How amazing it is to me to feel between heaven and earth as I try to follow the promptings and listen to spirit when I see something that I can do to comfort another.
So this is what I have learned for me and what I try to do: Talk to those that have lost someone. Some friends and acquaintances have never said anything to me and I have wondered if they know or if they understand how hard it is. Let them know you are sorry for their loss. Give them an opportunity to talk about that person. Some will want to and appreciate that chance. I never tire of talking about my son and the things he did. Remember experiences you shared with the deceased and write them down and give them to those that it would help. We continue to receive letters and correspondence as those in far away places find out about his accident. I am so grateful for them taking the time to reach out to our family and offer their love. Nothing is too small to do or say or ask about the person or how the one sorrowing feels. Just to have someone ask me how I am doing that day, lifts my burden and sadness because it is as if they want to share with me that grief if it is being a hard day. If you have a picture, music, letter or recording connected with that person, share it with those that mourn. Many friends that have my son in video clips have offered to send them to us. It shows a side to my son that I did not get to see. Include them in activities that involved the person that is now gone. We were invited to attend our son's missionary reunion. It was like being in heaven to see faces that were on his pictures and learn their names and more about them. I got to see the quilt square that he decorated and the scripture that he chose. He chose the scripture that was on his older brother's missionary plaque. That made me happy.
What I find helps me to move on and heal is to listen to hymns and uplifting songs. We were given many albums by the Tabernacle Choir and they have become my source of comfort as I listen to the spirit that is so evident in their music. When the sorrow seems overwhelming, I put on my headphones as I work and listen to Conference talks. Usually the talk addresses exactly what I needed at that time to lift my sadness and fill my spirit with hope. I read talks and books given to us by many that address the spirit world and what purpose this mortal life has. It helps me remember to keep an eternal perspective ,that this time is short and that I need to focus on my eternal welfare so that I can one day be with my son again. I am reminded that he is in a far better place. The temple has been a powerful source of strength. For several days after attending, I find my ability to cope with my feelings to be easier and stronger. The longer I am away from temple attendance, the feelings of darkness and sorrow begin to creep back. The major gift of healing comes from helping others and remembering them in their time of need. The spirit has directed me often to do things I would never think of doing myself and often persists when I question the direction. I have felt my son poking and prodding me on through that veil that separates us with encouragement to think of others that might be struggling or need help to feel better. I have felt his concern for his friends and those he learned to love in his mission.
I have seen the compensation given to me and my family for the loss we have felt at the passing of our son. I have seen the Lord directing me more clearly than before. I have felt His love , comfort, and tender care as never before. I am grateful for this opportunity to grow and be more aware and compassionate of others. There are many days where I just want to wake up and be back to the me I was before his accident but there are those angels on earth that come unexpected to push me forward and remind me that life is what we make it.