Grief

What a mixture of emotions today. I tended to some important business that now I think I feel like I can breathe a bit. It's amazing all the junk that encompasses a person's death, all the nitty gritty details, paperwork, heartache and headache. I'm determined to make my death as painless on my descendants as possible since this has been a nightmare. Hopefully. I pray that others will do the same and learn from what I've gone through--even if it is to say, "I don't want THAT to be me someday!" I'm ok with that, if others kick things into gear and realize what needs to be organized and in order "just in case."

We had tithing settlement tonight. I reflected on what this means in our church, to once each year meet as a family and individually be able to tell our Bishop that we are (or aren't) paying a full and honest tithe. I think about the nature of how our church operates and I'm sure the fact that no one is paid in our church and that we are self sufficient is probably something members of other churches aren't familiar with. The fact that the leaders of our church also have jobs and are not paid by our church to speak or do all that they do. It really is remarkable, a lay ministry. It makes sense to me. Anyway, I digress a bit. I was thinking back to years in the past when we've had tithing settlement. The December before Adam passed, there wasn't a weekend (or weekday) that we could work out for all of us to go together to tithing settlement as a family (as is tradition) so I remember taking Justin and Spencer by myself. It felt odd at the time, since he was missing. But I realize now how little things like that were preparation for years to come. Strange the small ways I was given a bit of preparation for life as we know it now. I still got teary tonight though. Tears flow readily and daily these days.

And lastly for today, Adam's headstone. I had finalized everything about 10 weeks ago. At that time I was told that it would be about 4-7 weeks before everything would be carved and completed, another two or so after that before it would be placed. I realized this week that it had been quite a bit longer than that and I hadn't heard anything. I called to check up on it. I spoke with a man (whom I remember meeting) who told me that he would check on things and give me a call back. This man is a stone carver. He isn't the one who makes the designs and such, and I had been working with another woman who does more of the paperwork side of things. Minutes after I called, he called back and started apologizing that it has taken him so long. It hasn't really bothered me, so I told him it was no problem, that I just wanted to check up on things. He explained that his mother died and that he had gotten behind on work. It was interesting because for one of the first times--the first non-numb time maybe since Adam died--I felt such a deep sorrow for him and his loss. I could hear the pain in his voice, his sadness, and oh, how I wished I could do something, say something. But there just isn't anything one can say. Simply, "I'm so sorry for your loss." I told him to take his time, that the headstone wasn't a problem at all, truly. He explained that it was nearly completed. He said he has been working on getting the boys' handprints carved out just right, that he wanted them to be perfect. I knew he was speaking very honestly. And I told him to take his time. He said that the headstone would be done either tonight or tomorrow. Given the date on the calendar, I'm thinking it might get placed before our (what would've been) 12th wedding anniversary. If not then, I'm sure it'll be completed by Christmas. One more big piece of the puzzle complete I suppose.

I have felt sadness for others who have lost loved ones. Death is never easy. Here, I was speaking with a man whose profession is carving out headstones, and we talked about how death just isn't easy and nothing we can do to prepare ourselves ever is adequate. I'm grateful that my grief is moving away from my self-centeredness and able to more fully grieve with those who have other losses. Every loss is unique, every loss is different. I try to imagine how I will feel when my own parents pass away someday, and I just can't. Yes, their relationship is very different than the one I had with Adam, but it too will be difficult.

I've come to the conclusion that the only way I will "feel better" again is to love again. I'm not talking necessarily about remarriage or another relationship. If that happens, then so be it and I will take whatever Heavenly Father has in store for me with open arms. But I'm realizing that just like faith is the antithesis of fear, in my opinion, love is the antithesis of loss. Truly developing charity--the pure love of Christ for all people--is what brightens, strengthens, and gives us hope to carry on. Loving our friends and neighbors. Loving ourselves and being patient with ourselves. I'm finally starting to really understand what that means. Heavenly Father sure gives us such unique opportunities to learn. It is good to find the wisdom amidst the sadness, learning from the events in our lives.