in the quiet heart is hidden

In so few more hours Brian will be trying to convince me to get in the car. It has crossed my mind that if I don't get dressed that he wont be able to take me. I mean really...would he chase me down, throw me in all my nakedness over his shoulder and force me into the car? Yeah, I don't think so either. But who is to say....and what would the neighbors think. Talking to a sweet neighbor of mine who brought me the most amazing book from Camille Fronk Olson...

.....she commented
that if the curtains aren't closed
in the morning
that could LOOK really bad
and someone would certainly
call for protective services.
[I might just try it!].

This beautiful book already brings me peace to just even hold in my arms. What a wonderful thought and lesson, the women of the Bible. And what a wonderful lesson from a sweet neighbor, one of many who follow promptings and offer a hand in faith to serve.

Women of the Old Testament

Wonderful Women
of Faith,
and of Sorrow,
and of Pains,
and Temptations,
and Mistakes,
and Forgiveness,
and Rebellion.

So many walks of life...I say,
"If they all made it into the Bible, the righteous book of Testament to our Lord and Savior, they maybe, just maybe...I will make it somehow."

...just maybe...

So I sit tonight...in the quiet heart hidden sorrow that the eye can't see. I am losing the part of me that grew and nurtured my babies, oh such sorrow. A loss truly, and honestly understood by so many women who have suffered this pain.

Yesterday I went to my Grandma's House. (it will always be her house...) I went to visit my Grandfather...Grandpa.

Almost to Grandpa's home and my dam of tears broke. I couldn't stop in that condition so I drove on to the graveyard. The resting place of my grandmothers tired worn weary beautiful temple.

Oh, how I wished that she were there.

I imagined we were sitting on the hill together, to capture the sound of Grandpa playing Taps, an honorable death ---but someone elses...not my Grand Mother.

But alas, I was sitting alone, gazing in the direction of her last mortal resting place.

When she passed away I was ready for her to go.

I wished for her pain to be gone.

I prayed for her suffering to be lifted.

We all, who loved her, who LOVE her, knew it was time.

But not the kind of knowing that is accepting Thy will.

The kind that a child has knowing that he can not have cookies before dinner---
sneaking one anyhow.

[See, I believe in sneaking them still...
so this is really hard for me.]

Oh, how I WISH I could sneak her back.

I know eternity will be a feast of love, together once again, Thanksgiving every day.

The child in me doesn't want to wait though.

I want it now. I hum to myself

...heavenly father,
are you really there...
and do you hear
and answer every child's prayer...

I am praying...and pleading as I sit there watching over the valley.

I see the dandelions.
The once beloved flower of
my always beloved Grandmother.

Something we have in common... a love of dandelions! ♥



I begin to ponder:
oh, how lovely and sweet she was...

When I would innocently blow the seeds
and plant her a garden in her lawn.
Then in the Spring as my garden grew
I would pick her a bouquet.

She would open her arms and accept my offer,
as if I had given her a treasure trove.

That acceptance is what I miss.

I was offering her weeds,
---mere weeds
---weeds I thought
I had toiled
and
tended
to.

Weeds that certainly caused Grandpa grief, and possibly her at times.

...like me

me and dandelions
---something
accepted
in
a
world
that
looks
upon
a
flower
and
calls
it
a
weed.

I picked a few,
I took them to her headstone,

I know she isn't there,
but somehow it offers me a comfort to imagine her,
still accepting my offering.





I sit blinded by my tears,
oh, how weary I feel,
how weak and confused,
sad and so tired.

I wonder how I will face
the pending weeks doom.

For doom it is,
my womb,

my childrens
first home
on earth---
a place of peace,
comfort,

warmth.

I am already feeling grief.

It seems to have come too fast.

One month ago
I didn't know
as I dreaded another week of pain.


Oh what I would go through----
to go back and KNOW.




...but then
I remember
to
Trust His Will.


...and then I find myself curling up in the soft grass.
Listening to Grandma's birds sing.

The smell of spring.

I feel myself sinking in the comfort of the lawn.

As if I could sink
all the way
to her arms.

I close my weeping eyes,
and for a moment
the warmth of the sun,
brings me a sense of peace.





As I allow my sensibility
to leave me

my senses take over
and I feel her.



I want to so badly that maybe I am just convincing myself...but I pretend that the warmth of the sunshine is the warmth of her arms embracing me.


I know that all the wishing and magic in the world is nothing next to the Faith she exemplified as she lived those last, best years.



So I stop wishing for magic...
and with Faith I stop pleading for what I want



and I begin to hear the greater part,


in my heart...


what He wants for me.





And I know she is there, she is HERE.

In all of us.
Living through our memories,
our love for her,
hearing us talk to her.
We keep her alive.
A life lived eternally
through a
childs name,
a grandchilds name,
a great grandchilds name,

a smile, a memory----

...And a Child's Prayer.
My prayer.

She is here,
and she is there,
Everywhere
and nowhere all at once.

But always in my heart.

At this point I am looking forward to a drugged and sorrow induced sleep, at least I wont be thinking about all this for a few hours. Jipped a little because I will be asleep for seconds before they begin to awaken me and annoyingly remind me that it is gone, and done, and if I try to forget

the pain will remind me....

I am really three things in one...a pessimist who sees 6 weeks of pain and limitation...an optimist who sees 6 weeks of NO CHORES....and a realist who knows the drugged induced nap is really the only good thing about it!


If I was at all doubting that this were the right thing to be doing
I wouldn't have the peace of mind to write about it.

For weeks in my silence,
my quiet heart I have hidden this pain,
seldom speaking of what was really facing me.

Tonight I am truly at peace, for now.

Sure there will be sorrow, possibly some moments of grieving.

Things that will cross my mind in their own time,

and when I am ready to glean knowledge
and understanding.

For now I will go through this,
with Faith knowing that someday I will understand it.


Tonight our kind Bishop came to bless me. As he and Brian anointed me and blessed me I felt assurance, and remembrance. I remembered my covenant with Brian to stand beside him, stand...which I can not do when I am doubled over in pain. I remembered that I promised to do my part in raising our family, my part can not be done from bed; from depression and sorrow, it can only be done by a healthier me. The thought of what really mattered to me crossed my mind.

Brian matters, my kids matter, and I matter.
I want to feel better.

I am thankful for the Priesthood Power, and for Faith. Because of the combination of those I was able to hear the things that Heavenly Father would have me do for now. I was able to hear that He knows me, He knows the pain I have patiently suffered [the patiently part surprised me...for I do not feel a patient bone in my body somedays]. He knows and wants me to Trust His Will for me, and for my family. He is aware of the desires of my heart. All of which will be given to me in righteousness. [Oh, do I have a long way to go.] He knows of my worries, and of my concerns, and admonished me to allow myself to heal. And what I heard that was not said was that I needed to ALLOW myself to HEAL in heart and in spirit, as I trust that He really does know me. And that I will know Him and my Savior someday as I draw nearer to them in service and in worship.

I suppose this is a sandwich post. I know my heart is weary and weeping, but these things I want to be reminded of.
To never forget,

and to bear witness
that I know that all will be well.

I take comfort in that
and know that through my calm belief
in these things that my family
can also take comfort and know that
all is well and all is His will.