Today being Fast Sunday in our
stake because of Stake Conference last Sunday, therefore testimony meeting, I
want to express my rambling feelings. First on all that my son, Eddy Hugh,
recites a reverential sacrament prayer. It warms my soul every month.
Was that before or after the
fire alarm went off? I didn’t hear it but as many Priesthood bearers got up and went out, even two from the stand,
but not the bishopric or stake president counselor who was presiding because
the bishop is in Hawaii, I whispered to DeRay: “What is going on?” “The
building is probably on fire.” “I’m getting out of here.” But I didn’t. I sat
with all the other women and children to burn to death rather than abandon
testimony meeting.
“False alarm. No fire,”
Brother Dent said after the sacrament. “I texted the Bishop yesterday after the
scare than an incoming ballistic missile was heading for Hawaii and 'THIS IS NOT A DRILL'. He called the Pentagon and they said they had no word so he felt
safe. My question is, are we ready?” Or words to that effect, reduced to the
lowest common denominator.
I had already been thinking
about life and death. I’m still going to back up here to set the stage. To
celebrate their 50Th Wedding Anniversary, a couple in our ward went
with their son and his family on a vacation to Hawaii over the Christmas
holidays. While catching a wave, their son, Aric, suffered a major spinal
injury. Surgery. Priesthood blessings. He’s in Colorado now for specialized spinal injury rehabilitation.
Both parents are sure he will walk again. I sincerely hope so. But what about
those who don’t? If God answers their prayers, does he love them more than the
ones who spend the rest of their lives in a wheelchair?
It’s been a trying four months
for me. Breast cancer diagnosis, surgery, decisions; drugs that help one thing
and hurt something else, so you have to have a procedure to help the thing they
hurt, then you have to do it again. New doctors; new techniques. Old wounds. It’s never ending. This week, I had two
procedures. “You may have a sore throat”
“You’re bones may ache, just take Tylenol.”
I admit I rather like the way
I’m treated when I go in for these procedures. Everyone is so nice and tender
and gentle. You know what these young whippersnappers are thinking: “Poor old
dear. Cancer and old age both.”
To my astonishment, this
weekend I feel strong for the first time in months. Really good. Like I want to
run and skip and jump and twirl. (Of course, I can’t but I want to.) What did they put in that IV on Friday?
And then I thought, but it
won’t last.
Something else will come up.
Everyone has to die.
I want to die healthy, I decide.
I know, most people get sick
and die. Some don’t. We had a neighbor who was working in his garden when he
keeled over dead. He was always helping someone and doing kind things. His
wife, after his death, was just as exemplary. She didn’t wallow in self-pity
even though his death was sudden and tragic. After a few years, she sold the
house and moved into a condo by good friends. She still sends words of
encouragement and love to others in the old neighborhood.
For the moments I feel good, I
cherish. This moment I feel fine.
“Most humans are never fully
present in the now, because unconsciously they believe that the next moment
must be more important than this one. But then you miss your whole life, which
is never not now.” - Eckhart Tolle
