Two years. My little missionary who was called to serve at such a young age....still serving at 24 months. But of course time is of this world, not of hers.
One of the reasons I'm hesitant to post about today is because of how agonizing and anguishing today, and the days leading up to it, was. How much INSANE amounts of morphine she was going through to try to keep her pain under control, and still she would cry out if I moved my legs or body under her. "The messicine isn't working, mommy." One of the few coherent sentences I could understand. So we moved to dilaudid. Within 24 hours she had had over 300 mg. For those who've used that drug, you know that's a lot. An hourly dose of 10 mg with 5 mg boluses allowed every 10 minutes on her Patient Controlled Pump. And she used them.
And then the nurse telling you that with that much drug in her system, it was going to start causing muscle spasms and contractions. There were many, many, many difficult things we watched Abigail go through in her life, but this ranked high up there. To hold her as her neck muscles would strain and tighten and because she had not eaten much for almost 3 weeks and didn't have any fat stores, you could see her bones and tendons as her muscles would stretch and spasm and jerk. Her whole body did this. It was absolutely horrid. The nurse on duty in our home was in the process of requesting another drug; meanwhile they put on another patch to try to help relax her uncontrollable muscles. It didn't help much. And a new drug didn't matter; I think it arrived an hour before or after her death. Maybe it never arrived; I can't remember.
One of the last physical things I did for her while she was alive, no, I guess technically she was dead, was to have to reach up and close her eyes for her. These are only a couple of multiple things we experienced on this day 2 years ago. I can't write them all. Her death was not peaceful. The Spirit was in our home, and with us in full force, but her death wasn't pretty.
I learned on a deeper level than I already knew that Christ's Atonement goes beyond any pain we will ever experience. Even when it gets harder, and harder, and harder still. Even when you don't understand why someone so innocent had to suffer so much. His ways are not our ways, and His ways are certainly higher than our ways.
Three months later we had the blessing of attending General Conference, a biannual conference in which the Prophet for our day and age speaks, along with the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and other church leaders. I sat and listened to President Monson as he told us that his wife had died 5 months earlier and how much pain that caused. If the prophet of God, who certainly has a clear understanding of God's purpose and plan for life and eternity, felt pain and publicly acknowledged it, then of course it was right and proper for me to feel pain. I didn't need permission to mourn, but it was a validation that I was "doing it right." His talk will always remain one of the "classics" that I refer to repeatedly.
Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to delight in, also knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.
This should be our purpose—to persevere and endure, yes, but also to become more spiritually refined as we make our way through sunshine and sorrow. Were it not for challenges to overcome and problems to solve, we would remain much as we are, with little or no progress toward our goal of eternal life. The poet expressed much the same thought in these words:
Good timber does not grow with ease,The stronger wind, the stronger trees.The further sky, the greater length.The more the storm, the more the strength.By sun and cold, by rain and snow,In trees and men good timbers grow.8
Only the Master knows the depths of our trials, our pain, and our suffering. He alone offers us eternal peace in times of adversity. He alone touches our tortured souls with His comforting words:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”9
How I love our prophet! If you feel so inclined to do or say something for me today, what I would choose and ask of you is to read his talk {here}. No matter your age, religion, or choices in life, I believe you will be inspired by it.Whether it is the best of times or the worst of times, He is with us. He has promised that this will never change.
My children have memorized the above poem. What a powerful reminder that adversity, if you choose, can strengthen you. It can also break you. Difficult experiences can be either faith-building
or faith-breaking. How deeply our Father in Heaven wants us to turn to him at all times, and especially hard times.
Two years. How incredibly we miss her. How we long to hear her voice, or dream of her. But these aren't in our control. Heavenly Father is in control. If He wanted her Home, then we want her Home. It is surely a purifying process to live without her.
And although it was one of the worst days of my mortality, I know it was a beautiful day for her. Her Heavenly Birthday. That brings peace. As I think about it, it was probably one of the more glorious days of her eternity. Mortal birth and being sealed to our family through covenants would be another. She kept her second estate 1 and someday will receive thrones, principalities, kingdoms, and more. 2
Happy Heavenly Birthday, Abigail. We love you and are so glad you will keep us forever.
As always,
FAITH.
