Because I Knew You

This post has been stirring in my brain for a few days now.  I hope it helps someone who reads it- I know it helped me to write it down.

Two weeks ago, a beloved uncle passed away suddenly and tragically.  He was a man full of life, love and his generosity knew no bounds.  When I left to serve a mission for the LDS Church, he managed to sneak more than a few dollars into my scriptures.  That money was used to buy a coat, boots and a scarf when I got to Croatia.  When my parents needed to buy a house or restock their freezer with good beef, he was there to do whatever he needed.  A friend recounted to me a time when her husband fixed a tractor for John and later found the fee, plus extra, inside the cab of his truck.

And now, John is gone.  As those who loved him (and, if you could have seen the line at the viewing, you would know that number is great) try to make sense of what happened and wade through the unanswered questions that linger around suicide and mental illness, there are things that may never be known.  But, I wanted to share with you a few things I have come to know in the past few days.

I know that mercy is always greater than justice.  I believe in a just and merciful God.  As I sat pondering the other night, having read through some of the vitriol that was posted online about suicide in the wake of Robin Williams' death, I thought to myself that if, in the imperfect justice of man, we understand and accept that there are some actions for which men are not held accountable because of their diminished mental capacity, in God's perfect justice system, would it not be the same?  I believe that John, Robin Williams and others who have taken their own life were welcomed with open arms and overwhelming love by a merciful God who wept with them as they struggled through the trials and travails of this life.

I know that great good can come out of great sorrow.  My siblings and I spent three hours chatting with each other via text the night we all found out about John.  We raised a toast to John- he was a dairy farmer, so naturally, it was milk- and reminisced about the ways he had helped our family.  We talked about different ways we could honor his memory and his legacy of giving.  I have already taken a couple of steps to do so and have plans to do more.  I believe that great good will come of his death.  People who have been hesitant to get help will get help.  Eyes will be opened to opportunities to serve.  His tragic death started a ripple effect of service and kindness that will never end.

I know that music heals.  I have known this for a long time, but I had it reinforced again to me.  The Friday after John's passing, I had the opportunity to take my parents to the Deer Valley Music Festival and hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir perform with the Utah Symphony.  The evening was perfect- the sky was clear, the air was chill, the company was fantastic.  After a heartbreaking week, my soul was uplifted by the perfect strains of the choir and symphony.  I wept as they sang "...walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you'll never walk alone."  I wanted to stand up and cheer when they raised their voices to sing "...my heart will be blessed with the sound of music."  There is nothing so powerful and able to heal the soul as music.

I know that coincidences are really not coincidences.  There are several things that happened this week which were signs to me that God is aware of me and my family and blesses us for the desires of our hearts. Some choose to call it coincidence, others good karma.  Whatever you choose to call it, I believe there is an energy in the world that when we are trying to do good, good and blessings are returned to us.

Example 1: The Deer Valley sold out 2 weeks before the event.  I was able to get tickets from the main event website the day before.  When I first went online that day to try and get tickets, there were no reserved tickets available.  I had the thought to wait an hour and go back and look again.  When I did that, there were 3 tickets available, exactly the number I needed.

Example 2: My immediate family had planned a family reunion to Yellowstone/Island Park.  All the details were set.  When we found out about John, all of us who were going to be at the reunion wanted to attend the funeral services and so we scrambled and made very last minute changes to our reunion plans.  The biggest hurdle was finding a place where 25 people could stay that wasn't going to break the bank and was central to funeral plans.  I was looking around late one night and saw a possible place and made a mental note to call my sisters in the morning.  Not 15 minutes later, one of my sisters sent me a text with a link to the very same place.  We needed somewhere to stay Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights.  This house was booked for every night the entire month of August except the exact nights we needed it.  It was a fantastic price, could sleep all of us and all we had to do was take the sheets off the beds when we left.  Everything fell together seamlessly for us to rearrange our reunion and it was a fantastic time.  Having family there to converse and condole with was just what the doctor ordered.

I know that good friends are the greatest gift.  Two days after the funeral, as the reunion was wrapping up, I went to lunch with a good friend.  He and I were both struggling with our own versions of death- me with John's passing, and he with the end of a friendship because of another person's choices.  As we sat and talked over lunch and grieved over our respective losses, I could see healing start for both of us.  There is power in creating safe places/friendships where we can be vulnerable and share our hearts.  It was what my heart needed that day.  I want always to be that kind of friend to others.

Grief changes us all.  Immense grief changes us immensely.  Some things may not ever make sense. But I know that when we are grieving, we can choose to reach out to others.  We can choose to smile through the tears.  We can choose to be changed for good.