One Month


Today is September 9th.  It has been exactly one month since my mom died.  It feels like someone pushed the fast-forward button at that moment and the days have just tumbled on in one continuous jumbled fog since then.  The pain is still physical.  I still cry every single day.  I still feel like I am in a state of shock and disbelief.  

I've learned something profound about my heart, however.  Even in the midst of literal hurt and being completely broken, my heart is swollen with abundant and intense gratitude.  I am truly astounded at the ways my family and I have been blessed, supported, and loved over the past four weeks.  


Help has come from various sources in numerous forms.  Be it spiritual or temporal from angels seen or unseen, I have felt touched and appreciative of it all.  In addition to countless other cards, notes, messages, emails, texts, and letters, I received this handwritten personal letter from my Stake President.  He did not know my mom, but his concern and empathy are evident.  When I consider his stewardship and all he is occupied with, the fact that he was aware of and took the time to reach out to me in such a personal way was significant to me, and made me want to be more aware and sincere in my sphere.
 The gifts we have received have been heartfelt and generous.  Money has helped with gas to get back and forth to Cedar City and missed days of work.  Beautiful flowers and plants have been gentle reminders that people love us and are praying for us.  Statues, tokens, and mementos help to fill the emptiness in my heart.  A few days ago, I came home and found this t-shirt and bracelet on my front porch.  The engraving on the necklace my mom gave me for Christmas has the same words that are printed on the t-shirt.  I just cried as I picked it up and thought felt of the generosity, thoughtfulness, and love of so very many good people.

A friend asked if she could bring dinner this week.  I reminded her that it had already been 4 weeks since my mom's passing, and that we no longer needed meals brought in.  Having lost her own dear mother last year, she replied, "I know that now is when you need it most."  She came in with a homemade dinner not only for that night, but for the next night as well, and brought with her words of understanding, comfort, and love.  She left me with food, gratitude, and increased hope.

While I cry sad and sometimes angry tears every single day at the loss of my mom, I also cry tears of gratitude as I pray for blessings upon all of the tremendous people that have reached out to me and my family.  Each of you make me want to be a better person.  There are always blessings in trial, but I never anticipated the number of people that would be involved in bringing these blessings to me.  Because my thanks will never be enough, I hope to take this abundance of love and share it with others who are hurting in whatever way.
Thank you for giving me the privilege of loving others the way you have loved me.

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