Tender Mercies & Trials

“We are not placed on this earth to walk alone.”

Thomas S. Monson

My dear family and friends,

As I attempt to journal all that has taken place the last two weeks, I hope that I share something with you that is impactful to your own life.  I have experienced so many tender mercies, so much divine guidance, and have witnessed angels at work as I have attempted to navigate this period of time.  I have not walked alone.

I’d like to begin by sharing my first tender mercy of this whole experience.  I’m adding this paragraph in after the rest of this email was written.  You might say this is “the rest of the story . . . “ When Mom fell on New Year’s Day and broke her hip, Rex called me and told me the doctors had said this very well could be the beginning of the end.  As you can imagine, I was in utter turmoil wondering what to do.  Should I hop a plane then?  Who would take care of her the way I wanted to if I wasn’t there?  I needed to go!  Should I go?  What about all my mission responsibilities?  I felt like I was riding a giant roller coaster that did not stop.  I was on pins and needles and could not sleep or relax in between communication with the family.  I had an email from a good friend who had gone through a similar experience that gave me my first feeling of peace, and I decided to turn it over to the Lord.  I prayed to know what to do.  And the answer came as clear as day, “Focus on your mission, let those at home take care of Mom, and you’ll know when it’s time to go.”  When I talked to Rex, I told him “If at all possible I want to be there to say good-bye to her before she goes, so call me when you think it’s close.”  Wow!  That’s a huge responsibility to put on someone, and he said that very thing to me.  My answer to him was, “You’ll know.”  Ron and I went ahead and planned our days and our schedule of responsibilities as if everything was normal.  A Stake in the Manchester called and needed some training.  We scheduled it. We scheduled our YSA activities, our Home Teaching appointments . . . everything, as if all was normal.  We worked hard.  And every time I would get word that Mom wasn’t doing well, or she had a problem, I would wonder, “Should I go now?”   But then I would remember my answer, and I would keep my focus on the mission.  When Rex called me at 5:30 am on the morning before she passed away, and said, “It’s time to come . . . “ I knew it was.  Ron found me a flight, we were out the door by 7am, to London Heathrow by 9am, and I was on my way home by 11am.  At that point I didn’t know if I would make it before she passed, but I was at peace that I had kept my end of the promise, and He would also.  I felt so much peace, as I said before, that even I was amazed. 

Now, to continue with my letter . . .

The passing of my mother on Monday, January 29, was a difficult, yet sweet experience.  She was surrounded by each of her children and other family members.  Rex was holding her left hand, and her face was cupped in my hands as we watched her slip quietly away.  An immediate spirit filled the room, and a feeling came to me that all that were present and many more were bound together for eternity.   Yet another feeling of emptiness was soon felt, and I even said out loud, “I feel like an orphan.”  It was a very strange feeling.  Each of our families gathered together separately for a private good-bye to our mom and grandma.  With Amanda, Zack and I present, we Face timed with Ron and Alisha and joined together as Ron offered a family prayer.  It was a special few minutes.  The spirit filled the room and our hearts, and it did not leave us.  Even now, I feel the Comforter with me.  I am so thankful to have shared that with my husband and my children. 

I took care of funeral details all day on Tuesday.  I was tasked with submitting the obituary and photo for the newspapers, ordering flowers, and choosing burial clothes.  It was a difficult day; even more difficult than the day before.  Rex said the same thing.  I was sad, and I cried my way through the day.  It was much harder than I thought it would be.  I was so glad for Ron to arrive Wednesday and Alisha and her family’s arrival on Thursday.  After a year of separation, we now had our family back together to laugh and cry and mourn together.  That everyone’s schedule worked out so that we could be together during that difficult time on such short notice was nothing short of a miracle, and I do believe in miracles. 

Monday night I had felt like I was catching a cold.  I did all my home remedies to prevent it, and prayed for health and energy, but by Thursday night I knew I was doomed.  I prayed for strength to accomplish everything I needed.  My family took over and let me rest.

The viewing Friday evening was wonderful.  So many people came to express their love for Mom and to our family.  We had so much personal support from our friends.  Many flowers were delivered.  I hugged, I laughed, I cried.  It really is a wonderful opportunity to see so many people you love.  By Friday night, my voice was gone.  Again, as Saturday, funeral day, came, I prayed again for enough strength.  But with no voice, I resigned the fact that I would not be able to deliver the talk I had prepared; a tribute to mom.  I was so sad, but asked Alisha if she would give it for me, and passed it on to her.  After Ron said the family prayer, we said our good-byes and closed the casket, I wanted so badly to pay tribute to Mom, so I silently prayed for enough voice to be heard, and told Alisha I would give the talk.  Yet another miracle happened, as I was able to speak in an audible and legible voice just long enough to pay tribute to Mom.  And I thanked Heavenly Father once again for another tender mercy.

The funeral was beautiful.  I think Mom would have been pleased.  Everyone did a great job and stayed on schedule.  Melanie and John (my talented niece and husband) sang a song she had written at the graveside, and Zack dedicated the grave.  It was beautiful, and then it was over.  Mom’s ward provided the family with such a nice lunch, and it was a great opportunity to visit with cousins and family members we don’t see often anymore.  That is such a nice tradition our Church has, although I would much rather be on the giving end than the receiving end. 

After we arrived home, my strength was gone, and I was exhausted, coughing, and had no voice.  But yet, when I needed the strength . . . my voice, I had it.  I don’t believe in coincidences.  I know I was truly blessed the entire day when I needed to be. 

When I finally woke up Sunday morning, Ron said, “We have kids throwing up, kids with stomachaches, kids with fevers.  We’ve cancelled getting together for the Super Bowl, and we’re not taking the chance of infecting the entire ward, so we’re not going to Church.”  Great.  Just what we needed.  But, yet another tender mercy was given.  By 4pm everyone but me felt much better and the family was able to gather at Amanda’s.   I stayed home and slept and slept and slept.  The 2-1/2 nights of sleep I had completely missed earlier in the week had caught up to me and my body was making up for it.

Beginning last Thursday, February 8, Ron and I had a big assignment for our mission in Wales, as we were to be part of a large Women’s Interfaith Event, and we were the hosts of Sister Bingham, General Relief Society President, and Sister Jones, General Primary President.  We had determined that we would do our best to return to our mission in enough time to fulfill our assignment.  I woke up Monday morning and said to Ron, “I think you need to take me to the doctor, and I don’t think I will be getting on a plane tomorrow.”  Just when you think things are going your way, and all your prayers are being answered, Heavenly Father lets you know who is in charge, and it clearly wasn’t me.  But how could I feel resentment or betrayal when I had felt so much love and mercy and had so many prayers answered the previous week?  The Lord knew why I needed to go back to England the next day, but my fate was in His hands, and I accepted that.

I was not surprised when the doctor said, “You really can’t get on a plane.”  The good news was that I did not have the flu.  The bad news was, it was a respiratory virus that an antibiotic would not help.  It just had to run its course.  And the danger was that it could easily turn into pneumonia.    At that point, Ron said, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, stay with you or go back.”  As hard as it was to let him go, I knew he needed to go back and fulfill his and my assignments for the event that weekend.  So the next day he left me, life for everyone else got back to normal, and I was home alone to recover. 

I didn’t surface again until Thursday evening when I went to dinner with Zack’s family for Hunter’s birthday.  It was a bonus to be home for his sixth birthday, as last year we were at the MTC and missed it.  I tried not to smooch on them too much or cough on them, and my lack of voice was annoying as heck, but nevertheless it was fun to be out.  I did go back home and go straight to bed.  My friends and neighbors were so good to drop food by.  I certainly didn’t go without.  I am so blessed to have such good people in my life.  Truly, angels of mercy.

Our Wales Interfaith event went well, so Ron said.  Well, actually he said, “It must have been really important, because Satan sure had his foot in the door. “  So many things did not happen the way they were suppose to, including Sisters Bingham and Jones’ flight from Frankfurt to Cardiff being cancelled, and they were late for the event, but Ron took the lead and handled everything.  I was sorry to miss, as he had an amazing experience, but so thankful he was there to carry the load for both of us.  I was able to watch the event on Facebook Live, which was pretty amazing.  Have I mentioned before how much I love technology?  This little 3x5 computer called a mobile phone that I carry with me keeps me connected to family, friends, and the world no matter where I am.  At one time it seemed so incomprehensible that Heavenly Father can have his finger on all of us at any given time, but now I get it.  There is always a way.

I had a really good night last night and feel back to normal except for my voice.  I went to Church today and loved hugging so many of our dear friends that I love and miss.  It was a sweet experience and I am so grateful for it.

Again, as I ponder the many miracles and tender mercies I have experienced the last two weeks, I cannot deny that we each have a loving Father in Heaven who knows us individually and cares enough about us to bless us in times of need.  “His arm is stretched out still” . . . as it says so many times in the scriptures . . . if we only reach for it, in good times and in difficult times.  This is my testimony today.  My heart is full of gratitude for so many who reached out to our family this week in so many ways.  I only hope I can pay it forward and bless someone’s life when they need it also.  Thank you for your example to me. 

If all goes well, I’ll be on a plane back to England on Tuesday morning, exactly one year later to the date that we first left on our Mission.  Now that may just be a true coincidence.  Wish me luck!

Much love,

Marie (and Ron from across the pond!)