Jeff's Perspective

I remember getting the news that mom had leukemia when she was our scout leader. We walked down the hill from our house and to go on a fishing trip on that day. I think we found out when we were down fishing and walked back home early. We had a long talk with dad and mom that night. I remember going to getting tested for my blood type with the rest the kids and feeling scared about the process and the outcome in case I was the same blood type though I also hoped to have the same blood type so I could help. 

I remember when we moved to Seattle as a family and going through the whole process of trying to cure mom. At a certain point wen she was in the hospital we would go and visit her every day with dad and after a while we would all leave and play with toys in the toy room at the hospital while dad stayed to talk with her. I remember distinctly one day feeling how shallow it felt to leave and play with toys when my mom might not be there the next day. Instead of leaving and playing with toys that day I stayed longer to talk with my mom. As I recall, it was not too many days after that that we could no longer go to visit mom because she had taken such a turn for the worse. She died a few days later.

Those days, were days in which my very simple, little boy soul went to deeper places in preparation for the reality of life and death that was about to come crashing into my life. I remember dad coming home the night she died. A few of us ran to the door when we heard him start to open the door. We were filled with fear of the news that was about to come. I'd never seen my dad cry before so seeing his eyes as red teary as they were told me everything. I remember sitting is in a room as a family with my brothers, sisters, dad and grandmothers and crying until, because of physical and emotional fatigue we could not cry any longer. The deep pit in my heart that was carved by pain that night and the following months was filled with a resolve to do what I knew I needed to do to be with my mother again. My mom and dad had taught me that if I lived the commandments of gospel I could be with my family forever. I knew it was true. The pain of my mother's death was swallowed up in the knowledge that, because of Jesus' resurrection, my mother's soul lived on, that she would live again and that we could be together if I obeyed God's commandments partook of Christ's atonement. At a time when death was so near to me nothing could have been more real than this truth. 

It is interesting how when death and pain are not present we so easily forget our mortality and these important truths. It definitely says something about our purpose here on earth. It is not all meant to be fun and entertainment. We naturally crave this. No one goes out looking for pain or death. But these things are a part of life and seeking to avoid their part and purpose in life or being shocked by pain or death as if we were never meant to experience these types of things is folly. This is never more clear than when a someone close to us dies.