Working and Walking

I woke up crying again today.  Man this is rough.  But today we had a plan.  Dad and I had a lot of time to just talk as we worked today.  We also walked five miles over at the bay and talked.  Today is the first day that I felt like maybe I will make it.  I talked with a friend who also lost her mom and oddly enough it helped to hear that some things get better and some do not.  Tonight I also ate on my own volition–a huge step.  Perhaps I will stop losing weight and just hold steady.  I’m going to have to buy new pants when I get back to DC regardless.  I prayed several times this morning for the comfort of the Spirit and to not be afraid of feeling comforted.  I know that sounds kind of silly, but I have had this fear that somehow feeling comforted diminishes my love for my mother.  It’s hard to explain.  At any rate, I know I have to access the power of the atonement in all of this and the only thing I knew to do was to ask for it.  It didn’t come right away, but as we got to work today, it came.  It stayed most of the day, so long as I stay focused in faith.   Dad and I have had some hard conversations, ones that make my heart ache, but I think even despite those I might not dread trying to go to sleep tonight.

I appreciate all the emails, gchats and texts that keep coming in.  It helps me stay connected to you all and helps me to feel like even though right now I’m not sure what life is going to look like from here on out, I have friends and family that love and care about me and my family.  Sometimes my phone is in the other room or I’m in the attic so I’m sorry if I miss you at times.  And sorry if I lag in response.  Don’t give up on me.

Hard

Today was hard.  As family departed yesterday and today, it finally hit me that life must move on.  The only problem is, I don’t know how.  I’m here getting my dad settled, cleaning house, doing laundry, writing thank you notes (I know we will miss some people because we just didn’t get all the cards from the flowers and I’m so so sorry but please know we love you and appreciate you), sorting through Mom’s things, etc. but after that…then what?  I suppose I will be spending a lot of time in the temple, a lot of time talking to siblings on the phone, and a lot of time trying to figure out the purpose in this for me personally.  Right now it feels like there is a brick on my chest and I cry in very public places quite shamelessly.  I ask for backrubs to put me to sleep and I pray that I can sleep through the night.  I keep telling myself that people’s parents die all the time and people somehow survive.

I just haven’t figured out how I’m going to do it yet.

Clean

Today we clean the house.  Top to bottom. Scrub, scrub, scrub.   As I scrubbed the bathtub in the “terrestrial kingdom” (previously known as the “new bathroom” as it was part of the addition put on the house when Mom was pregnant with me but has since been remodeled in earth tones) I felt that a part of Mom was rejoicing that her house was being put back together. Mom LOVES having the grandchildren over and never minds the house getting totally trashed.  But she also loves her house very clean and she usually staved off the empty feeling in the house after everyone is gone by giving the house a good scrub.

Turns out there is more of my mom in me than I realized.

And now the real test begins

The funeral was beautiful.  I wish we could have had a sunny San Diego day, but at least the rain broke for the graveside service.

I think the service went exactly as Mom wanted it to go.  The Spirit was there, her spirit was there, there was laughter, there were tears, there was music, there was love.  Most of all love.

After the dedication of the grave, I felt a myriad of emotions.  That was the end of the line as far as planning went.  I have very few things left on my to do list, which leaves me feeling a little strange.  I also felt more peace after the dedication than I have all week.  The first time I felt true peace was after we finished dressing Mom.  Then yesterday when we had a family prayer, closed the casket and sang “Families Can be Together Forever.”  Then as I spoke, I could feel an increase of peace.  I could feel that I was saying and doing exactly what my mother would have me do and say in her memory.  But when Bruce dedicated her grave, to be protected by the power of the priesthood until the day of resurrection, I finally felt some anxiety depart from me.  Her spirit is already safe, but now her body will be safe until the two are reunited at the glorious day of resurrection.

Today the great test begins.  New lists begin.  Fervent prayers continue.  A different stage of grieving is moved into.

I spoke at the funeral yesterday.  I will post the essence of my talk at some point when I have a chance.  Especially the testimony part, because I think it is important for those out there to hear it.

Coming home

I was so afraid that coming home would be more than I could handle.  All day driving from Utah I have been actively fearful.  What would it feel like without Mom here?  How would I be able to bear being here without her?  As we pulled up, I tried not to sigh too loudly.  We greeted family as soon as we walked in the house.  Bruce and I both almost instinctively walked down the hallway to go talk to Mom.  We waited for a little while.  Then I went myself.  I stopped when I got to the bedroom door.  My sister-in-law was right behind me.  I turned around and said, Mom is here, isn’t she?  I truly believe she is. She was waiting for us to get here so that we wouldn’t feel alone.

She is very much alive.  This I know.  I am suffering and will suffer for a long time I am sure.  But I also know that Mom loves me and that my grieving should come from a place that does not worry her.  I don’t know how to balance my grief yet but I know that as I ask for help in prayer, the answers will come.  My father gave me yet another blessing tonight.  Some things he told me: I have to be engaged in meaningful service .  That this home should feel like my home because it is my home and that I should remember the things I learned here.  That while my physical pain stemming from my emotional grief may lessen, I should not see that as a diminishing of my love for my mother but as a deepening, mature love that grows as time passes.

The gospel is true.  I am a little bit afraid of the future, both for me and my family, but I have to trust that God will provide.

One day at a time

Last night was the first prayer I have offered in days without being completely hysterical/delirious/begging.  I think I have been afraid to pray for fear that I might have a complete breakdown…even though I think that already happened.  As I prayed, I waited for the words to come.  I found that all I could do was express gratitude for my marvelous mother and for all she has done for me.  That’s all I could do.  Be grateful.

When someone dies and they have received their own endowment in the Temple of the Lord, we bury them in their temple clothing: a white dress and all of their symbolic clothing.  This morning Dad also decided we will bury her with her French missionary tag.  It is fitting.  The new dress we bought her is actually a beautiful white suit.  Mom will be so pleased we found her something with a collar!  And so pleased that she will be attired in something so close to what she actually loved to wear.  When I sent Dad a picture of it from the store to see if it was what he wanted he said, “It’s perfect.  You could have bought it without even asking me.  That is exactly what your mother would have chosen herself.”  Indeed, when we saw it, it was as if Mom said, “That one. Right there.”

I also prayed last night that these next few days would be filled with the Spirit.  I cannot bring my mother back, but I can prepare her for the resurrection.  Dressing her will be a sacred experience.

Mom’s big send-off

Saturday, February 6, 2010 at 10 a.m.

3705 Tennyson St.
San Diego, CA 92106

flowers can be sent to:
Greenwood Mortuary
4300 Imperial Ave.
San Diego, CA 92113
(619) 264-3131

or, in lieu of flowers, a donation can be made to the church’s missionary fund: http://www.ldsphilanthropies.org/missionary/

Mom died a missionary, her greatest life desire, and is still a missionary.  I imagine she gave a hug to her father, her mother, her brother and then got to work.  Typical Mom.

The best is yet to be

This is what I keep telling myself.

Yesterday Mom left for the great beyond.  As painful as it is, I know it was the will of God. 

Thank you everyone for your fasting and prayers on her behalf.  It meant so much to her to know that. 

I don’t know how to survive without my mom, but I am sure God will show me a way.

Her funeral is on Saturday in San Diego.  Anyone who would like to come, please let me know and I’ll forward on details.

Abraham and Isaac

The last 24 hours have been especially hard.  We have been promised through blessings and other spiritual impressions that Mom will recover and yet as each day passes those promises feel further and further out of reach.  Last night as I prayed, I had brought to my remembrance quietly yet forcefully that God can do anything.  Christ raised Lazarus from the dead, he healed the lame and the blind…He provided a way for us to be forgiven from our sins.  If it is His will for us to keep Mom and if His promises are meant to be fulfilled on this side of the veil, no amount of damage in this process is permanent.  He can undo anything.

This morning found me on my knees in tearful pleas yet again.  I felt this morning that perhaps we are experiencing an Abraham and Isaac moment.  We have been given certain promises.  The current circumstances seem to be making those promises impossible.  Abraham was also given certain promises and God’s request of him seemed to make those promises impossible, but he obeyed still, trusting in the power and purposes of God.  In the end, when the trial of faith was over, God delivered His promises and they were even greater than Abraham could have comprehended.

We too are being brought to the brink of it to test our faith. When the trial of faith is over for all involved, He will show His hand.  And He will make it so that not one of us can deny that it was His hand that has delivered her from death.  I felt the beginnings of that this morning and almost as a surety as I talked with my sister in law this morning.  And that this is not only for our family to see and witness, but for all those who have come together in fasting and prayer.  I am almost afraid to believe that – it gives me so much hope – and yet I know that I felt those things by the Spirit so I must believe.

Fasting

Now we begin the great united fast.  I am amazed, humbled, overwhelmed, (and many other adjectives that I can’t articulate right now) at the response to my request for a united fast on behalf of Mom.  Emails continue to come in about more people joining the fast.  It has extended to my home ward in San Diego.  Nonmember friends are also uniting in fasting.  Mom’s name is on at least 6 or 7 prayer rolls (that I know of) and probably multiple times in multiple temples.  I believe all this fasting and prayer will not go unheard.  I know that Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers.  I know He does.  I know that this fast is so important in this process, not only for our family, but for those participating.  My dad felt that tonight as we talked about it.

So I have one more request for all reading and fasting.  I would like to hear about your experience, even if it is unrelated to the matter at hand.  I know that the feelings that accompany fasting can be very personal, but my family and I would benefit greatly from you bearing your testimony to us.  You can leave them in comments here or you can email me at julie.bradshaw@gmail.com.

Thank you my dear, dear friends.  I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough for your love, your support, and your willingness to freely share those things with me and my family.  I draw on your strength every moment of every day right now.

Please God, grant us a miracle.