Back to the Beginning

Tonight the rain is pouring outside my window while I'm tucked safely inside my cozy, little basement apartment. Tonight that same rain seems to be reflecting the feelings of my heart. The last few days my heart has been constantly weeping for the loss of my mom. I get up, get the kids to school, run my errands and do my daily tasks, pick up my kids and I smile and play with them, I tuck them in bed and kiss their sweet cheeks trying to soak in every ounce of their goodness and in return give them all of the love I have, and then the tears my heart has been silently crying all day are finally free to slide down my cheeks. Tonight it is time to write again. Tonight I am going to take it back to the beginning.... 

The cooler temperatures of the fall seem to be bringing back vivid memories to my mind. It was this time last year that I moved to Utah. I didn't know then that the months of September and October would be my last two months spent with my mom before she would become dependent on me. We spent those two months in the same manner that we usually spent time together. We were oblivious to the poison inside her body that would soon take her life. Ignorance was bliss.

There is one particular night in September that sticks out to me. Remember the lice my daughter had had the previous spring? Turns out she actually had SUPER lice! Apparently super lice cannot be killed with over-the-counter lice treatments. On this September evening I discovered that not only did she have it, but so did all of my boys! I was distraught. I could not do lice anymore. My mom and I took the boys out back and completely shaved off all their hair. We worked late into the night bagging up all of the pillows, washing the linens, vacuuming, and combing through hair. We decided we better check our own hair as well. My mom and I took turns combing through each other's hair using a fine tooth comb and a magnifying glass (keep in mind we both have very thick heads of hair). Any of you who have dealt with lice before will know what a painstakingly slow process it is to thoroughly check for lice. Seeing as it was now our third go around with lice in six months time (thank you super lice) my mom and I decided to also chemically treat our hair despite not seeing any sign of lice. We were determined to be done once and for all with all things lice! 2 a.m. rolls around and we are both sitting at the kitchen table with this gross chemical treatment in our hair. Out of nowhere I started to sob uncontrollably. Shocked my mom said, "Buggins, what's wrong?" (side note: we're a nickname family) I couldn't get the words to make sense I was crying so hard. I was trying to say, "I'm so tired of hard." It sounded so ridiculous and I felt like a child crying like that that I then began to laugh but I was also still crying. I was legitimately hard core crying and full on laughing at the same time. I have never experienced anything like it prior to that experience or in the days following. I felt like a full on lunatic. "I think you're having a nervous breakdown" was my mom's response through her own laughter. At two in the morning we were sitting at the kitchen table with gunk in our hair, simultaneously laughing and crying like babies who can't decide if they should laugh or cry, except that we were full grown adults. That is one thing I loved best about my mom, she was always a person I didn't have to be anything but me with. I could act like a crazy woman having a premature midlife crisis at 28 and she didn't care. She unconditionally embraced my crazy and always brought hers to the party. Somehow that terrible night has become a treasured and cherished memory. A memory of acceptance and love from a mother to a daughter. There are times I'd give anything to be back in that hard, uncomfortable, kitchen chair with smelly chemicals in my hair. 

The beginning of October I started taking a CNA course. Classes were from 9-2, Monday-Friday all month long. During this time my oldest two kids were in school but my youngest two were not. My mom had agreed to watch my little ones for the month. That month was a priceless treasure for my then four year old. He got so much more attention from grandma that he didn't normally get when the bigger kids were around. They spent many of those beautiful fall days going for walks. The baby has more energy than most people know what to do with and as the month of October progressed, my mom began to experience extreme fatigue. A lingering cough she had had since the spring began to worsen. When she was tired of chasing my youngest around she would buckle him in the stroller where he would be confined and my four year old would walk along beside her. Despite her exhaustion it was usually easier for her to manage a walk than chase the two year old around at home. She never let me know just how bad she was feeling but despite her best efforts to hide it I knew something was wrong. I felt guilty leaving her with my kids but she insisted and at that point there was only a couple more weeks left, therefore, daily walks with my boys became the norm. 

It was on these walks that my four year old formed a bond with her that is quite remarkable. Because of all of the changes from the divorce and the high demands placed on me, he was struggling a bit to be seen. The two of them would walk and talk. She would point out things about nature to him and before long he suggested they start saying prayers on their walks. This tickled her. He would say, "Grandma, Grandma stop we need to say another prayer". She would patiently stop and listen to him pray for his sister and then they'd walk a little further before he would ask her to stop again to pray for someone else. This went on and on the whole walk until he had stopped and said a prayer for every member of our family. My mom cherished these walks and I believe they were a small step in preparing her for what was to come. I know they were a huge step in healing my little boy's heart. 

One day I came home a bit early and discovered the house empty and the stroller gone. Knowing they must be on one of their walks I walked out front to wait for them. Sure enough there they were walking towards me on the other side of the street. My mom was pushing the baby, my four year old was walking eagerly beside her, and they were looking at each other discussing something with smiles on their faces. The sun shone perfectly behind them so that their silhouette's were crisply outlined against the sky. A gentle breeze scattered leaves along the road and ruffled my hair when I distinctly heard, "remember this moment" whispered in my mind. Time stood still for just a fleeting moment. I willed myself to soak it all in, to memorize the way they looked, the way I felt, the sound of their distant laughter, every single bit of it I tried to commit to memory. Tears sprang to my eyes and in that moment I knew....

That was the last walk she ever took with my boys. From that day on, deep in my soul I knew that the "lingering cough" would eventually take her life. The next time I came home from school she showed me her pillowcase. It was speckled with blood from coughing in the night. That was the beginning of the end of her mortal life. 

Not a day goes by that I don't miss her presence.

 Even though I love the changing leaves and crisp air, this fall has been painful for me because this year the changing leaves and crisp air acts like a trigger on a gun where the ammo is a bunch of bittersweet memories. Memories that I know I have to share, I have to let out somehow because if I keep them in I'll drown in them. Some of them are too painful to keep locked away, stuffed inside. Some of them are too beautiful to keep to myself. Grief is funny like that; pain and beauty intertwine until sometimes you don't know where the beauty stops and the pain begins. So like the trees in autumn I'm shedding my memories like falling leaves. Some of the leaves are ugly, dead, and brown, rotting on the ground. However, most of the leaves from my tree are vibrant oranges, reds, and golds; you see most of my memories are more beautiful than painful. To know my mom, to care for my mom, to love my mom and be loved by her in return, that is more beautiful than any autumn leaf! How fortunate that life is eternal and that like the tree that loses it's leaves every fall, new memories will come forth like fresh leaves growing in the spring!

                                                Treating her hair for lice. lol

                                              Grandma time with the little boys

                               

Kathleen Abrams Ewell, A Believer

I'm not sure this post will make any sense. It is most likely going to be a jumbled mess of my thoughts and feelings. I have so many thoughts bouncing around in my head and I know I just need to get them out somehow. I don't know how to write about such tender things while it is still so fresh but feel it is important to do so. I have written quite a bit in my journal but feel the need to share some of these thoughts with others. My mom was one of my biggest supporters of this blog and I know she would want me to share some of these things if it might benefit someone. I still feel so amazed and humbled that what I have to say makes a difference in the lives of others. I feel so normal, so ordinary, but perhaps that is where my power is. I can help others because I'm normal and ordinary and I have been blessed with the courage to share. So with a little apprehension I am once again going to be vulnerable and share with y'all another piece of my heart. I'm going to share some of my grief with you. I'm going to share one of the most valuable things to me with you, my mama.

On July 13th at 3:01 a.m. my dad came to take my sweet mama home and end her mortal suffering. It was a beautiful and tender blessing to hold her hand and feel her heart beat its last few beats. The love that was in that room with my siblings and I surrounding her bed as she left this life is something that cannot ever be described by words we have here in this life. Her nine month battle with stage 4 lung cancer tested and tried her to her limits in every way. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically she fought EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Some would say the cancer won, I have even said she lost her battle but as I look back now I realize I was wrong. Despite extreme pain and moments of doubt and fear she never lost her faith. She never lost who she was as a mother, a sister, a cousin, a grandma, a daughter of God. Her love and faith remained strong the whole way through. I call that a victory! Those who know my mama know she has always had a fierce determination to rise up and be counted as a believer. And that she did!

A week ago we held her funeral and put her body to rest next to my dads. The last week or so has been surreal. None of this feels like it really happened. Occasionally a memory will rush back to me and with it comes emotion, shock. This is reality. With that reality comes the impression that I need to share who my mom was and is. I need to share my testimony that she lives, that death is not the end! I need to share experiences that I've had that have taught me that although awful, bad things happen sometimes to good people, God is real. I have had so many special, sacred experiences these last nine months while caring for my mom. I know I need to write about some of them but I'm still trying to process and decipher what to share. Some things are too special to my siblings and I to ever share publicly.

Despite the pain I feel at the loss of her physical presence I feel a deep, intense peace inside my heart. Nearly every day of my life I have talked to my mom. She was my confidant, my counselor, my best friend. We would talk about a variety of things ranging from things as mundane as what we did that day to our deepest pains and heartfelt desires. Losing her is odd because the person who always helped me the most with this kind of thing was her. I would call her and cry and vent and cry some more. She always validated my feelings and knew exactly what to say to motivate and empower me. In fact, it was she who gave me the words: stronger, braver, fearless as my mantra! I find myself now in a position where I am once again at a crossroads. My whole life was about caring for my mom these last nine months and of course my kids as well. Now I have to create a new life for my kids and I. I don't know exactly what that looks like and that can be terrifying but I have an idea and hope for the future. I don't regret the decision to drop everything and care for her in the least. Besides my decision to become a mother, choosing to care for her was the best thing I have ever done!!! I have now experienced a different, deeper kind of love than I ever thought possible. I am grateful to have experienced that kind of sacred, selfless, eternal love! Every pain I feel at her loss is matched with an equal amount of gratitude. Gratitude for that time. I never in my wildest dreams envisioned myself being an "orphan" before I was thirty but I don't feel that way. I feel so grateful for the parents I have, for the time I had with each of them before they were called home. I have been blessed to have had noble and loving parents. With that gratitude comes peace, I feel their love every day of my life. They are still here with me, in all that I do. I read my moms journal this week and I realized that she also lives on in me. She gave me the best qualities about her. Because of her example I have her strength, her ability to love, her sense of humor, and an unwavering dedication to family and Heavenly Father. I don't necessarily think I'm amazing but she was and through her constant example she has given me the ability to develop those same qualities. They are in me and because of her I will rise up and be counted as she lives on through me. So even though I want to call her and ask for her advice, "What do I do next?", I know what she would say. "you can do hard things", "gird up your loins and fresh courage take", "the gospel isn't for wimps", "put one foot in front of the other", "move forward with faith", "I believe in you and you will rise up to meet what life has handed you", "just do this day", and most importantly, "I love you, you can do this!". Sometimes the grief and fear is debilitating but then I think about her life and the things she overcame and the words of advice she would have for me and I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that although the road will be challenging and overwhelming at times, I will succeed!!! I will know true joy and happiness can be found even in the most difficult times. I choose light, I choose happy, I choose to believe, and I will rise!

Kathleen Abrams Ewell was a lot of things in this life: a daughter, a sister, an actress, a nurturer, a granddaughter, a cousin, a poetess, a teacher, a "ding-a-ling", a friend, a comedian, a devoted wife, a superb mother, and most importantly, she was a believer!

Growing Pains

What a difference a year of "growing pains" can make! 

(Still awkward but so much cuter! haha)

8th grade versus 9th grade

When I was a kid, every once in a while, I would get this horrible pain in my legs. My mom always told me it was "growing pains" and she would usually give me a little medicine and send me to bed. In my eighth grade year I was one of the shortest girls in my choir class and by my ninth grade year I was one of the tallest. In just one year I had grown from shortest row to tallest row. What a difference a year of growing pains can make! Lately I find myself thinking often about emotional and spiritual growing pains. I seem to have established this pattern with God that usually entails a horribly hard phase where things seem to get worse and then BAM, the insights come all at once and I feel almost a constant flow of personal revelation.

A while ago I was definitely struggling. In fact, I had a full blown temper tantrum. I don't know quite what triggered it, I think it must have been time for me to grow. I was really suffering with feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. I literally threw myself on my bed and started punching the mattress all whilst sobbing and repeatedly uttering, "God you don't care about me!" Even in that moment I was fully aware that wasn't true but I was angry. How many times had I pleaded for some sign, some clear answer that I would have an eternal companion? How many nights had I knelt in prayer and said, "Thou knowest the desires of my heart and that they are pure and true and I want a husband for all of the right reasons. I know how to sacrifice and give and I know how to make a marriage work. Please grant me this true and good desire"? I was angry because my heart is particularly centered on love. I love others so easily. It is one of my gifts that Heavenly Father has given me but in that moment it felt more like a curse. I ached to love and nurture a companion. I was mad that He created me this way and was allowing me to suffer because of it. "If it isn't in my plan to get married the least you could do is take these feelings away from me!" I was mad that despite my anger and the depth of my pain I still could not deny my testimony and I was mad that I felt so much love for Heavenly Father, even in my anger, that I would do this all over again if that's what it took. Yep, I was a raving, bitter lunatic that night, truly I was. 

Somehow I managed to humble myself enough to kneel down and utter a more respectful prayer before going to bed. Although I was still angry and confused I at least managed to tone down the rage and speak to Heavenly Father like an adult. Almost immediately after praying and making the choice to LISTEN I received an answer. A prompting came to me to read out of a book I had received at Christmas time. It is a book that is compiled of short stories and testimonies from women to strengthen and motivate other women. It is called In His Hands, because it is short stories I haven't read it consistently. I have just picked it up, reading a story here and there. That particular night the story I opened up to was called, "Unfulfilled Expectations" by Camille Fronk Olson. She references Job 5:18  "For he maketh sore, and bindeth up: he woundeth, and his hands make whole". She goes on to discuss how, often, the Lord makes us exercise patience and she uses the example of barrenness in the scriptures. Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel are all examples of women who experience barrenness. Women who were required to wait faithfully for the blessing of a child. The process of patiently waiting teaches us to trust in God with even more conviction. I didn't like this idea. Who does? I mean who wants to be patient? We live in a day and age where we want everything instantly. A popular country singer, Miranda Lambert, even has a song about it called, "Automatic". I am no exception, I loathe waiting. I have only been officially single for 6 months and alone only just over a year and you'd think I'd been single my whole life by some of my attitudes!

I pushed aside my negative feelings and went on to read my normal nightly scriptures. It just so happens I have been studying Job on and off for the past year and was in that exact chapter and read that exact scripture from the previously mentioned book for the second time that night! "Okay I get it" were my thoughts. I am struggling, I have been put in the fire to be refined. Now I need to trust in the Lord and He WILL make me whole.

The next few days I continued to struggle and waffle back and forth with this concept of trusting Him. On one such day my mom was actually having a hard time as well. Her and I were having a discussion about her mood and she was expressing to me that she had some fear about dying. I felt so overwhelmed in that moment. "How can I comfort her and calm her fears?" I silently prayed and began to share my testimony with her. Finally I began to cry with pain as I said to her, "Ultimately it doesn't matter what I believe. What do you believe? I can't give you my testimony on life after death no matter how hard I try, you have to find and know it for yourself. It pains me that I can't give you the comfort I feel. " I continued to tell her about a picture a friend of mine had shared on facebook a while back. The picture depicted a little girl holding tightly to her teddy bear with God kneeling in front of her asking her to give him her teddy bear. What the little girl couldn't see is that He had a much larger, better teddy bear behind His back. The captions says,"Just trust me". I told my mom I felt like the smaller teddy bear for her is her mortal life. She is clinging desperately to it and doesn't want to give it up but what she can't see is that there is a larger teddy bear for her that is eternal life. Then I asked her if she trusted Heavenly Father. I then challenged her to change her prayers from, "please let me live" to "help me to accept Thy will".

Later that night I was struggling again with loneliness and as I often do when I feel that way I drove up to the Draper temple to ponder and pray. Something about seeing the temple illuminated against a dark sky gives me so much hope. As I sat there in the parking lot the familiar question came to my mind, "Am I going to be alone forever?........... Or for a long time?" I began to cry and then like a bolt of lightening I realized what a hypocrite I was. I had asked my mom if she trusted God and I had challenged her to ask for acceptance of His will instead of her own desires and here I was NOT trusting God and absolutely asking for my own desires. Humbled I began to pray right then and there, "please help me to accept Thy will, help me to trust Thy plan for me". Within minutes the despair I felt melted away and comfort took its place. As I drove home a flood of truths came to me all at once.

 First, I realized that no matter what my life plan entailed I would always be happy as long as I continued to turn to the Savior. Despite my life circumstances and the occasional tantrum of loneliness I am pretty happy now. I feel pretty content most of the time. Why wouldn't I be happy even if I was single for the rest of my life? A plan unfolded to me of what single life could look like for me and I could picture myself successful and happy, full of the light of Christ and raising my kids in the gospel. Didn't I have great friends and family? Didn't I have a plan for a career I felt passionate about? Doesn't church bring me joy? Why wouldn't I be happy? If that's what Heavenly Father wanted for me, I could do it and I could do it well! Sure I would struggle from time to time just as I was now but I overall I would be happy!

The next truth that came to me was less of a general thought and more of a direct message from God. "I have spent the past year comforting you, healing you, teaching you eternal concepts, and molding you into the person I have always intended you to be. You weren't ready for a relationship and won't be until I know that you are committed to this person I created you to be. I need to know that you won't change for anyone. You don't need to do anything different to impress anyone and you certainly don't need to stifle yourself the way you have in the past for a relationship. Don't change or give any of this up just because you're lonely. I need you to be this person I created you to be!"

Another truth that came to me is how easy it is to look at someone else's trials and question why they don't have more faith. Why can't they get it? How easy it is to make these subtle judgments of others. I learned humility and even more compassion with our thoughts towards others is absolutely essential when serving them. When the trial is our own it is easy to see why it's so difficult. I apologized to my mom that night. Even though I hadn't been mean or harsh with her, I have no real comprehension for what she's experiencing and perhaps it was appropriate to share my testimony and convictions with her but I also needed to realize sometimes all that is needed is love. She has a testimony, and a strong one at that just as I do, but that doesn't mean we won't all question it from time to time with life's challenges. What's important is that we are slow to judge others who are struggling and quick to extend Christlike love and compassion.

Other even more personal and sacred truths were taught to me that night and continued coming over the course of the following week. I even received a remarkable and very detailed priesthood blessing from my home teacher! What happened to my heart that week was amazing. I had experienced spiritual and emotional growing pains and my heart has now been humbled and opened even more to the blessings of the spirit and Heavenly Father's love. I went from thinking only of myself and my wants to what does He want for me. I have centered myself and my desires with His will for me once again. How easy it is to forget His will for us and to think only of our own desires. I have again put my faith in Him and His plan for me and I DO trust Him!

It is my hope that if you are reading this and you too are struggling, that reading this will give you strength. You are not alone in your questions of doubt. You are not the only one who has wondered where God is and felt hopeless. You are not the only one who has prayed unceasingly for the righteous desires of your heart only to feel those prayers are unanswered at times. Please take heart and know that you are not alone now or ever. I promise if you will challenge yourself to accept God's will and put your trust in Him that you will feel the same comfort I did. I don't know when or how it will come to you but you will feel it. Sometimes the answers we receive aren't the ones we want to hear. As we sufficiently humble ourselves those answers do bring peace as we realize He has the master plan for our life and He will not let us end up unhappy when we seek to do His will. Like the growing pains that hurt me as a child that ultimately made my body stronger and better and made my body into the adult body it is supposed to be, spiritual growing pains can have that same effect. We will suffer and hurt for a period of time as we struggle to gain a deeper testimony of a particular virtue or concept but after the pain subsides our spirits are stronger and better and we are that much closer to the spiritual beings God created us to be.

Because He Lives

I've been feeling for a few weeks now that I need to write about my dad and his passing. With Easter Sunday quickly approaching I think it's become even more relevant to share this particular story. It's a very difficult thing for me to be so publicly open about because those memories are so special and sacred to me but I can't shake this nagging feeling that I need to share. A portion of this I have already shared in a different post, "Not as I will, but as thou wilt."  It's time that I tell the complete story. Here goes nothing and hopefully ya'll will understand how special this is to me. Some things you never forget...

It was a lazy summer morning and I had been out late the night before with friends. It was just my mom and I at home because my dad was working out of town in Rock Springs, Wyoming with his brother. I was sitting at the breakfast table enjoying a bowl of cocoa puffs when the phone rang. My mom was out on the front porch waving goodbye to my Aunt Shar so I got up and answered the telephone; it was an old fashioned one with large buttons and a long, curly cord. I didn't know it yet but what was about to happen next would change my life forever.

"Hello."

"Hi Celeste, this is Uncle Walter is your mom there?"

Something about that moment felt wrong. I don't know if it was the tone in my Uncle Walter's voice or something else but I knew from just that one sentence that something was seriously wrong. I remember feeling a sense of urgency to get my mom. I went to the porch and told her as calmly as I could that Uncle Walter was on the phone for her. I remember following her back to the kitchen like I was her shadow. I didn't want to miss a word she said. At that point I have blacked out the memory and I don't remember exactly what was said or the expression on her face when she heard the news. The next thing I remember she was telling me to follow her back to her bedroom. Words came out of her mouth in a blur. My brain couldn't catch up and my heart couldn't process what she was telling me.

"Dad had a heart attack."

 "He's being life flighted to LDS Hospital downtown Salt Lake."

 "We need to call Kenton".

The next thing I knew we were praying and my mom was pleading over and over again, "Lord, please help us to accept Thy will!" I'll never forget that prayer and the impact it had on me.

My brother Kenton was called and he came to pick us up and drive us to the hospital. My mom and I were a wreck of nerves and he was calm and peaceful. Once we got to the hospital we sat with other family members in the waiting room for what seemed like forever until we finally heard the helicopter that was bringing my dad in from Wyoming. It was both comforting and nerve wracking to know that he was finally in the same building as us and that the doctors would be able to see how bad the damage was. Was he going to live?

The next week was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. My dad had no brain activity so they decided operating on his heart would be pointless. He was in a coma and it was up to us, his family, to decide what to do. We waited to see if there would be any mireacles, any improvement at all, any sign that he might live. We waited for all of the family to have a chance to see him. My mom and I stayed in one of the hospital rooms so we could be near him and so other family members from out of town could have more space to stay at our house. I paced those hospital halls so many times and quickly I felt like I had the place memorized.

LDS hospital is up on a hill in the avenues of downtown Salt Lake. One day I just had to get away! I couldn't stand being in that hospital one more minute agonizing over the details of my dad's condition. I took off on a walk down the hill in a rage. "How is this real life? If I lose my dad now he won't see me graduate from high school, get married, or even have babies. It's not fair!" I was particularly upset that he wouldn't be around when I had babies. My dad was the best grandpa! He loved the grand kids and could always be found wherever they were even if that was down on the ground hiding in a fort. As I made my way into temple square with these heavy thoughts on my mind I noticed what a beautiful day it was. People were out and about enjoying the weather and one another's company. I saw a group of people laughing and felt genuinely surprised that there was still happiness in the world and life was going on for everyone it seemed but my family. I felt like I was in an alternate reality where time stood still for me but went much too quickly for the rest of the world. I wandered into the General Conference building (which was fairly new at the time) and I sat upstairs in the room with all of the statues of the prophets in a state of disbelief and shock. "Lord, help me! I'm just a girl. I don't know how to do this! Girl's need their dads!"

Eventually I ended up in the Joseph Smith Building watching a screening of, "The Testaments of One Fold and One Shepard". The movie is about Christ's appearance in the America's after He is resurrected. I completely lost control at the end of the movie when Christ showed the people the prints in his hands and feet. There I was in the most pain I had ever experienced in my young life and the pain didn't go away necessarily, but in that moment I knew my dad wasn't going to live and that it was going to be okay someday. The answer I had been dreading, the answer I knew deep down to be true was there smack dab in my face. I couldn't hide from it. My dad was going to die. He was not coming back to me in this life. I didn't know how I would go on but I knew I would go on and things would eventually heal. I knew it was okay because when I watched those people in the movie touch Christ's hands and feet the spirit testified to me that that was real! It really happened! Christ died and rose again on the third day and because of Him death was not really the end!

Eventually the doctors gave us the cold, hard truth; if he did come back he would most likely be a vegetable. We had a decision to make as a family and on July 14, 2004 we pulled the plug on all of the equipment that was keeping him alive. I have never felt more love in one room than I did that day. My entire family crowded around his bed and my mom asked my brother to read a scripture:

Psalms 23:4

Yea, though I walk through 
the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil: for
thou art with me; thy rod and 
thy staff they comfort me. 

Ocean waves were playing in the background. My dad so dearly loved the Oregon and northern California coast, it was a part of his soul the same way it is now a part of mine. A prayer was said and the equipment unplugged. My mom whispered in my dad's ear, "fly, baby fly, you're free" and one single tear slid down my dad's cheek. Many things happen naturally when a person dies, a physical reaction to the body shutting down but I believe that was his way of saying how much he would miss us and how sorry he was for all of the sadness we would feel. Within a few minutes his chest slowly stopped rising and falling and he was no longer with us in his mortal body. My sister Laura turned to me and with thick emotion embraced me and wept on my shoulder, "oh Buggie, I'm so sorry!" My grown brothers who were always so calm and safe, my protectors, were bawling on my shoulder. That day changed all of us forever.

On July 19th, a Monday, we held his funeral and shortly after family left to get back to their lives. It was the emptiest feeling on the planet being in our home with just my mom, knowing we would not hear my dad's laughter coming from the other room anymore. For about a month our dog, Charlie, would sit in the window waiting for my dad to come home. A couple of times he even ran out in the street confused, looking for him. Eventually he stopped waiting in the window and it broke my heart. He really was gone.

So many people showed us so much love during that time. We received countless cards and visits from well wishers. A family in the neighborhood brought us a massive breakfast to feed our ENTIRE family. My mom was serving as Young Women's president at the time and I was a laurel and the Young Women made us the most heartfelt cards. During our stay at the hospital my mom and dad had their 18th wedding anniversary. The staff all signed a card and got my mom a cake. I was so touched by their compassion. Many friends and school mates of mine showed up to my dad's funeral, never having met my dad, just to support me. I still look back on all of those kind acts of sympathy and love with such tenderness and gratitude!

My senior year of high school was rough. Grief encompassed me and I did my best to act normal, to be fine, but I wasn't fine. I felt like I was an actor in my own life. Many times after school I would throw my backpack on the floor and collapse onto my bed and just lay there, empty, depressed. Sometimes I couldn't move for hours and no tears would come and other times I couldn't seem to get off of my knees from a prayer and make the tears stop. I never thought the pain would end.

Time went on and I moved up to Idaho, got married, and had four kids. Gradually, with each year the pain got less and less. Sadness turned to gratitude for the time I did have with him and that I got to have him as my dad. I would rather have David Leavitt Ewell as my dad on this earth for only 17 years than any other dad until I was 80.

I have felt my dad's presence here and there over the years; usually when I am enjoying my kids, his grand kids. I have told my kids stories about their grandpa and seen tears in their eyes as they realized how special he is to me. It touches my heart to see them still have a relationship with him on some level. We can't drive by his cemetery without the kids yelling, "Hi grandpa!" On Valentines Day they made him valentines without even telling me and then asked to take them to him. One day I was upstairs helping my mom and I came downstairs to find the kids watching a home video of him completely entranced. They have never physically known him but they do know him and that brings my heart so much joy. Death has not kept them from having a relationship with him! They are learning the eternal nature of families at such young ages and I couldn't be more touched or amazed at their comprehension. It is a beautiful thing!

This last year has undeniably been the hardest of my adult life. One of the many tender mercies I have experienced is the sacred blessing of feeling my dad's presence with greater intensity and frequency. I feel him all the time, all around me. I know he is guiding and protecting me and my little family. I am convinced he was with my daughter giving her comfort and courage when she decided to tell someone she was abused. I know the love he felt for his grandchildren that were living at the time and I know that that love is no different than the love he feels for my kids now.

I have felt him giving me companionship and comfort on some of my darkest days. On one occasion I was praying and missing him terribly. I craved the comfort only a father can give and I said, "I love you dad, Heavenly Father please let him know I love him, I miss him." What happened next was a first for me and a much needed tender mercy. I distinctly heard the words, "I love you too Buggins". Every cell in my body knew he was there and that those words were coming from him. I instantly felt warm and as if I was hugging him once again.

I talk to him frequently about my mom. Not in the regular way you would talk to someone living but I feel things in my heart and send messages to him. "Dad, please help me take care of mom. What should I do?" I have felt him many times around us and I know he is here often even when we can't feel him.

My message today, my whole point in sharing all of this deeply personal stuff, is that life does not end at death! This Easter season my heart is so full of overwhelming love for our Savior. Because He lives I know that my dad will live again too, as will my mom. We ALL will live again because of Him! Death is still hard, there is a hole left in your heart that only time can slowly heal but the sting, the finality of it, is swallowed up in the crucifixion and resurrection of our Savior! As a 16 almost 17 year old girl watching a movie about the Savior's resurrection I knew my road would be long and painful but I also KNEW that it would be okay one day. It will be more than okay, we will all live again, of that I am certain! I don't know why I've been so fortunate to feel my dad when others might not have but I do know because of those experiences he is alive and well right now! Life goes on and we don't need to say goodbye the way we think we do. I feel a deep and immense love for our Savior. Because He lives I don't ever have to wonder if I will see my loved ones again. I still get to have my dad with me and my kids still get help from my dad, all because He lives! What has been made possible for you because He lives?

How?

One of my mom's biggest concerns about passing on is she wants to make sure I'm okay. She longs to see me happily married to a wonderful man who will be crazy about me and my kiddos. Since her diagnosis I have reassured her many times that I will be okay because I am okay right now. I honestly believe it. I know that no matter what, marriage or not, I will be okay. I will figure out my career and with Heavenly Father's help I will be enough for my kids. It will be very challenging at times but I will be okay.

A couple of days ago I had gone upstairs and read Jesus the Christ with my mom. Towards the end of the chapter we were on I started to feel kind of funny. I don't know how to explain it other than I just felt really tired and off, nothing major was wrong and there were no distinct symptoms but I just didn't feel well. It was a general feeling of ick. So for the first time in months I took a nap. When I awoke I felt really peaceful and the veil felt very thin, almost as if I had seen a loved one who had passed on in a dream. All throughout that day I couldn't shake the feeling that I had had contact with a loved one's spirit and that they were nearby. It was a very sweet and calming feeling.

Later that evening a thought popped in my head, "why now does the veil feel thin?" That thought left me feeling a little uneasy as I connected it to my mom and her condition. Soon thoughts were coming like, "is she going to pass really soon?" and "am I being prepared for her passing". I finally dozed off a little only to awaken around one a.m. with an anxious feeling. I needed to go check on my mom. It was late and I didn't want to scare her but I listened to that feeling and crept quietly up the back stairs. When I cracked open her door she looked at me. "Mom are you okay?" "I'm fine what's wrong? Come sit by me." I sat by her on the bed and told her what I'd been feeling that day. In regards to my nap she suggested I was being taught by heavenly spirits in my dreams. We talked for a while and it felt like old times before she got sick. Finally I said, "Mom I really do know I'm going to be okay when you pass but I need to hear you say it. I need to know that you know I'm going to be okay.  I am going to be okay, right?" She quietly and confidently replied, "You are going to be okay. I raised my kids to be tough stuff and you will be just fine. Happier times are coming." That night I did feel more comforted after talking to my mom and fell asleep pretty quickly once I went back to bed.

The next day I made plans to attend the temple. I really needed some extra comfort and wanted to go to the Jordan River Temple one last time before it closed for renovations. As I was sitting through a session the same questions from the day before kept popping back into my mind. "Was I being prepared for her passing and was it going to happen sooner than I was expecting?" In the Celestial room my thoughts were focused on the Plan of Salvation and mortality. I sat there contemplating for a long time when I finally began to cry and I looked up at the chandelier as if looking to the Heavens and asked, "How am I going to be okay? I know I will be but how?" And with that the tears flowed freely. I knew I would be okay one way or another because of what I've already been through but losing my mom..... that is an overwhelming thought despite being 100% confident of where she's going to be and that I will still feel her. The fear and sorrow I hadn't allowed myself to feel was finally felt in that Celestial room because I knew I would find comfort there. What I didn't expect was for Heavenly Father to answer my question right then and there. With tears still streaming down my cheeks a sweet, young blonde woman, whom I noticed had also been crying, came over and sat down next to me. "Would you like someone to talk to? I noticed you were also crying and thought maybe we could give each other some comfort." We sat there whispering our stories and our pain to each other and exchanged words of comfort and support. After we had changed our clothes we hugged and exchanged phone numbers. "I'm so glad I met you!" She said. "Me too, and don't hesitate to text me or call."

I got in the car and I felt so much better. I felt sorrow for this woman and her trials but I was no longer focused on mine. How marvelous to have made a friend in the temple of all places. Surely our paths were meant to cross. However, it wasn't until I was nearly home that I heard my answer. "That's how. You will be okay because I will send others to comfort you just like I always have. I will use my other children to comfort you and you will comfort them. Service. That's how."

What a powerful moment that was for me! Just by being kind we are serving. A simple smile or a few kind words can be the answer to someone's prayers and in turn we can find the answer to ours. These little acts of service can become our how to make it through a difficult trial. When we act on those promptings to serve we lift each other up and "how am I going to be okay?" turns into "who needs my help?"