Death is the New Birth Part 2

I believe in life after death. Mostly, I believe that our essence is something that can neither be created or made. Our lifesource is an energy form that has existed for as long as things have been in existence, so who knows how long that is… infinity? I do not believe our “souls” have a beginning or an end.

Is that strange?

I also don’t believe that God “created” the Earth from nothing. I believe something existed and He merely “organized” it into something with a power that we cannot explain or completely understand, I call it Priesthood; or the power of God given to man. I also believe that all these things can be explained via science. This is why miracles can be dismissed because sometimes there is an explanation; God has to follow laws, after all. I do not believe that science has all the answers. I do not believe that all theories are Truth, they are what they say they are; theories. When something becomes Truth then the behavior of God can be explained, thus we see an absence of a belief in miracles.

Faith is that leap between being able to prove something with science and believing in miracles. I believe in miracles.

Why do bad things happen to good people? Unfortunately, we are a product of our “creation” in that we are mortal and thus subject to the frailties of mortality; illness, injury, death.  Why do people get cancer? Some of the answers are in the environment or in our personal behavior or choices. Others are stamped in our DNA as part of our creation. This is why some people are born with predispositions to be addicts, unhealthy or other genetically linked weaknesses. God did not “create” us this way, our ancestors “created” us, on some levels. I also believe that some of our characteristics come with us.

I believe that we lived before we were born. At some point in the eternities a loving father (and mother) gave us a spiritual body. It probably looked similar to what our bodies look like now but without flesh, bone or blood. Our essence, our “energy” was changed to a thinking, functioning, intelligent being. We made friends. We had families. We made choices. We wanted bodies so we agreed to this plan to come to this alternate sphere (as opposed to a parallel universe) to gain our bodies and live in mortality. 

So dying, in a sense, is going back home.

When I read The Message (and reviewed here) I was struck by the beauty of the idea of seeing and being with family again. Being with loved ones. I believe they are busy doing things. Doing things for us, doing things for others that have gone before. I believe they are happy. I believe that death, funerals, the celebratory process is more about the survivors than about those that have gone on. We are left to cope and adjust the new normal that is thrust upon us.

I have experienced this traumatic unexpected loss of loved ones as well as losing someone who was sick and expected to pass. Either way is difficult. Admittedly it is more difficult to accept and move on from someone who dies in a tragic or unanticipated way but both are difficult. Both are losses that make you ache. Not because you are surprised but because you are still the one left behind.

There is some comfort in the idea of someone dying and believing they are happy, in a beautiful place and continuing to live a productive life. However, they are not with us and that is the trial. That is the difficult part. It’s not about worrying if they are happy, not for me, it’s about missing them. It’s about not being able to introduce my children. It’s about missing that relationship. Missing the person just because you miss them.

I look forward to death. I am not seeking my death but I am not afraid. I have people on the other side I want to see. What I don’t want to do is cause someone here any pain, but I suppose unless I completely withdraw from society, someone will be sad when I pass. If I am loved, I will be missed. And I want to be loved. I believe I am loved. So I’m not ready to go yet, but I have no fear.

If someday you read this and I have passed on you can know that I am happy. I am happy to be with my brothers, my grandmother, my friends, my father-in-law, my brother-in-law… and so many others that I miss dearly. I look forward to the day when we can all live together in our Heavenly Home and experience the next phase of our existence.

Death is the New Birth, Part 1

Recently I attended a funeral for a baby. Definitely not my favorite thing to do but it ended up being a good experience for me and one that I will hold in my heart. Death brings sadness; sadness to those who loved those who are gone. I once read that the measure of our grief can be equal to the measure of our love. I don’t know if that’s true but I know grief is not something you just “get over,” or “move on” from in a day, a year, a decade or even a lifetime. Even if you believe in life after death, as I do, it still hurts, it still aches and it still occasionally makes me angry. 

Why do I know about grief? I do not claim to have a monopoly on crap happening to me because I believe anyone who has lost a child is beyond my capacity of hurt. However, that being said, I have lost siblings and there is a unique ache to that kind of loss that is akin to losing a child, although not as great, in my opinion. I have also not lost a beloved spouse or parent (yet) but I do know that I can survive those losses because I survived that one. Even if I don’t want to, I will survive.

I was moved to make a gift for my friends that lost their beloved child. I made them a plaque that reads, “Because someone we love is in Heaven; We have a little bit of Heaven in our Home.”

There is a story behind this saying and I’m going to share that today. 

I have five brothers: G, M, me, B, G2, J. (G2 is the one I write with). We have had our ups and downs as most siblings do, but I love them all, they are part of me, we share DNA and I know if I ever needed anything they would be there for me, and I for them.

22 years ago this week I married the love of my life. We had a good first year, even with all the awkward adjustments that come with newly-weddery.

The summer after we married, my family went on a trip to a dude ranch in Colorado. It was an “entire family” event and all my brothers, their spouses (two, G & M) and children (four grandkids & one on the way) met and enjoyed a week with horses, nature and majestic views. M's wife, who was expecting, had a high-risk pregnancy and almost wasn’t able to come but her doctor cleared her just for that trip. She spent most of that pregnancy on bedrest but was able to enjoy the trip painting and relaxing rather than riding horses and whatnot. We had a wonderful time and it ended up being one of the best family memories we would ever have, but we didn’t know that at the time.

In October of 1991, my sister-in-law was due and the doctor released her from bedrest. As they were leaving the doctor and going to lunch to celebrate, they were hit by a car turning left in front of them. My sister-in-law nearly died and her baby was born emergency C-section and my brother was devastated, freaking out. My sister-in-law ended up with multiple injuries and by the time she was able to leave the hospital she was still in a wheelchair because of her crushed foot.

The baby was born under duress but she was healthy. They were all home for just a few short weeks when one night in early December the baby stopped breathing. My sister-in-law was trained in CPR but it was no use. It was determined that their sweet baby girl died at just six-weeks-old from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), a determination that has no answers or relief. We were all devastated.

The family gathered to their home in Provo, Utah for the funeral. A song was shared called, “An Early Goodbye,” written by Janice Kapp Perry on the death of her infant son many years before.

There is pain in an early good bye.
There are so many dreams you set aside.
So many memories to cause you pain, so many plans to change.
There is pain in an early goodbye.
There are so many times you question why,
so many feelings you must deny, so many tears you cry.
There are so many things I wanted to say,
so many reasons I hoped you could stay.
I loved you completely I have no regrets, but I just wasn't ready yet.
So i'll cry a little bit,
and I'll die a little bit and I'll try with all my heart to make some sense of it.
And there's only one power to lean upon,
there's only one reason that I can go on.
I believe in the wisdom of God.
He ruleth the seasons, he fails us not.
This kind of sorrow he too has known.
I do not walk alone.
There is nothing, and noone to blame.
And there's no use in thinking what might have been.
I would have kept you through life's short span, but God had a different plan.
So I'll pray for the day when sorrow will cease,
pray for the day when I know perfect peace.
I'll find courage to make it somehow, but I'm feeling so lonely now.
So I'll cry a little bit,
then I'll try a little bit and I'll trust in God above to make some sense if it.
Then my eye will be single to one bright star,
to live my life worthy to be where you are.
But today it's not easy, today I may cry,
so if you see a tear in my eye, it's the pain of an early goodbye. 

It was a memorable yet heartbreaking time for my brother, his family and anyone who loved and cared about them. This happened just a few weeks before Christmas.

We all gathered at my parents for the holiday, my brother, M, and his wife and their two other children stayed with her family. Two days after Christmas is my mother’s birthday and we gathered again and went out to dinner. The holidays were still tinged with the grief we all shared at the loss of this precious angel but reveled in the time we spent together knowing that separation could come at any time. 

A few days later the boys planned a day trip on my father’s sailboat. My two older brothers, G & M, were seasoned sailors, M actually sailed competitively with our uncle on occasion. G, M, B, my husband and his father set sail on a Saturday morning and headed toward the Channel Islands. When they didn’t return on time we began to worry but not too much because they could be easily distracted and lose track of time.

Around 6:00 PM there was a phone call to my parents home. I answered it (my mother and I had gone shopping together that day and I was to meet my husband at their home) and it was the Coast Guard asking for my mother. We were informed that two of our party were missing and the rest would be home soon (the Coast Guard was forcing them to go home, even though there were still two in the party missing).

My older brother Monte and my younger brother, Bryan were missing.

I was afraid but imagined them sitting on a beach laughing at us over our concern and worry. As it turned out we had much to worry about. The next morning we headed out on hired boats to search for them. We had so many people that we filled two boats for a search party. However, unknown to me, Channel Islands is basically a rock sticking out of the water, a sheer cliff and my brothers had no shore to be laughing on.

We found my younger brother drowned at the mouth of the cave they were attempting to enter. They believe an underwater surge sent their dinghy to the roof of the cave, knocked them out and tossed them into the frigid winter water. The brother we found, Bryan, was wearing a life vest. Monte was not and we never found him.

My sister-in-law lost her baby and her spouse in a month, to the date. We lost two sons, two brothers, two uncles, two nephews, two cousins and an innocent baby. It was almost too much. The grief was overwhelming. The pain was extreme. There are no words to describe what I felt, let alone what I knew my parents and sister-in-law were going through.

My sister-in-law is the most courageous person I know. Not only did she stay strong (it was difficult, but she did it) but she became a beacon of light for others. She raised her two other children, lived and worked on her own all these years. Both children are amazing adults with lives and beginnings of families of their own. The presence of their father and sister have always been in their lives because my sister-in-law refused to allow their memories to be forgotten. Regardless of her personal pain and emotional trauma she started leading grief groups and helping others.

She is truly one of my heroes.

My mother has this saying up in her house. They saw it at my sister-in-law’s home and got one for themselves. When I heard of my friends loss I needed them to have that constant reminder that, “Because someone we love is in Heaven; We have a little bit of Heaven in our Home.”

That’s why I made it for them.

Grief. Again...

Today is Beauty Tuesday but I have something else on my mind. 

I came across a blog I wrote a while back that I didn’t post. Another one about grieving. I’m not sure exactly why it’s on my mind. 

I am back on the Gabapentin for my Fibromyalgia and the first dose throws me for a loop and I woke up feeling dizzy and off. I wanted to walk/run Pop to school since I don’t have a car (long story) but I could barely get up so I called someone. She was wonderful about it, as she always is. So I will have another day where I don’t have to go anywhere. I will tell you that I got dressed; I’m not in my PJs although I could be. I’m actually wearing long sleeves and my fluffy slipper-socks because I’m cold. It’s supposed to be above 70 today but it’s 67 in my house and that’s nice. Not cold, not hot.

My sister in law shared a beautiful story with me once. I couldn’t find it anywhere so I don’t know where it originates from. But it’s about a woman who is grieving for her child. She prays, “Lord, I am faithful. Please restore my son to me. I am alone and need his presence for my grief is too great.” The Lord says, “Woman I will restore thy son after you have gathered a dozen flowers from the gardens of those that have known no sorrow.” Thinking this an easy challenge, she accepts. Time goes by and eventually the woman returns to her home. “Where are the flowers?” the Lord asks. The woman responds, “I could not find a home that has known no sorrow or grief, but I have found others whose loss is greater than mine. I will live with my lot.”

We do not know what burdens or grief others carry in their hearts. We all have heartbreaks. Mine include the loss of my brothers. The loss of an infant niece. The loss of a beloved aunt, an unknown uncle and my dearly loved Granni. Not to mention the more recent losses of a wonderful and worthy young man, a sweet friend and a much-loved brother-in-law. I also carry the grief of having a child that will always require work. He will never have all that my other children will have. That is what I grieve for.

I remember after my brothers died our church women’s group had a few people come and speak. One of them was an author whose book helped me greatly during this process. She wrote about the grieving process through an LDS perspective. We grieve differently and it was helpful to know I was normal. 

They also invited a lady to speak who depressed me. I guess everyone has different ideas about what helps or inspires but this woman was awful. When she spoke she just read from her book manuscript and everything she talked about was depressing and discouraging. She related how she had prayed for spiritual growth and her answers came in the suicide deaths of her children. What? That was all garbage to me. I believe you can receive growth through death but I do not think the Lord required their deaths for her growth. That’s back-@$$-wards to me!

One of my heroes is my sister-in-law, the one mentioned above. She lost her baby and her husband within a month. Both possibly preventable and avoidable but all in retrospect, what good does that do? She has remained faithful and positive, even through personal health crises. She blows my mind. Through all this she has created grief support groups and always been willing to help and council with others who have endured similar losses. She is amazing!

Today I came across a wonderful quote; Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something. Everyone. We do not know what burdens others carry. We do not know.

Grief is loves way of not wanting to let go. Why would we want to let go? Most humans worry about being forgotten. They long for some kind of legacy. In an interview with David Foster that I saw recently he said that his music will live long after he is gone. What a legacy! How gratifying to know that something you created will immortalize you to this world. 

How grateful I am that I believe in another world. I can “let go” to a certain extent because I do believe that I will see my beloved family and friends in the next world. I do believe that we continue on and that we can love and be loved beyond this world. Who I am becomes my legacy. How I live my life becomes my gift.  If my words touch others than I am happy in the moment they are touched.

Yes, I still grieve. But my grief is laced with joy as I consider my future. I miss them, that is the part of my grief that still exists. I miss them now and that’s normal and okay. It’s okay to continue to miss them. When Lazarus died, Jesus wept. Even though He knew he could raise Lazarus from the dead, which he did, he still wept. He wept for those who felt the loss of this good man; he wept for the sisters, he wept for himself. How beautiful is that? It tells me that it’s okay to grieve and that nobody can tell me how to grieve or that my grief is lesser or greater than another’s. It is my grief. I will feel it and grow from it the way and at the pace that I can, and the Lord knows this.

This is what I believe.