Come What May

"Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most.  Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning.  Just give hope a chance to float up.  And it will..."

In the last week, I've experienced so many raw emotions about endings and beginnings which brought to mind that quote from Hope Floats. More importantly, I've been trying to remember the "middle", all of the good things I remember about Heather.  And there are so many.  

Writing seems to be the only thing that is keeping me from losing it on a day-to-day basis.  So, purely as catharsis for this surreal experience, I want to share with you some thoughts about my Saturday.

As we walked into our old church building, a flood of memories came back to me; Young Women's, Seminary, church dances, holiday parties.  But this day would attach another memory to this place.  After our family prayer, our group of 60 family members walked slowly into the chapel, which was brimming with hundreds of people who knew and loved Heather and their family.  Eric's friend and home teacher, Mike Tonks, delivered one of the most powerful, beautiful talks I've ever heard at a funeral.  He was followed by Zak Heath, Heather's long-time friend, as well as her sister's husband; he shared sweet and sometimes funny remembrances of Heather, from birth to death.  His thoughts added a bit of levity for a heavy-hearted audience.  My brother and Heather's husband, the final speaker, then walked to the stand.  He shared sweet memories and facts about Heather than no one had previously heard.  My mom and all of the Marchant siblings concluded the services by singing, "Flying Free", a song that was sung at our younger sister's funeral 20 years ago. 

The graveside service was a simple prayer, dedicating the grave, that was delivered by my

 brother David.  Afterwards, each of the children placed a flower on the casket as the onlookers casually chatted; the younger ones did not really understand that that moment was "goodbye" for a time.  What a blessing we have to know that we will see her again - a sweet knowledge that her oldest son began to realize.  It was such a sad day but we were surrounded by dear family, kind ward members and loving friends that we haven't seen for nearly 15 years.

Everyone headed back to the building for the family luncheon, graciously prepared by Relief Society sisters from Snohomish 1st ward, Lake Stevens 2nd ward and Marysville 4th ward.  After such a long day, it was a pleasant time to sit and eat, while everyone shared special & fond memories of their mother, aunt, sister, daughter and friend.

This morning, I was reading through Bridget John's blog and one of her entries caught my eye.  She spoke of the passing of Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin and shared a quote from his conference talk, "Come What May, and Love It".  In a time such as this, the title seems an impossible feat.  But a powerful quote from his address helps one understand:

How can we love days that are filled with sorrow?  We can't - at least not in the moment.  I don't think my mother was suggesting that we suppress discouragement or deny the reality of pain.  I don't think she was suggesting that we smother unpleasant truths beneath of cloak of pretended happiness.  But I do believe that the way we react to adversity can be a major factor in how happy and successful we can be in life.  If we approach adversities wisely, our hardest times can be times of greatest growth, which in turn can lead toward times of greatest happiness.

I love the words of the prophets, both past and present, because they can bring strength and comfort in the darkest hours of our lives.  As we pass through this terribly dark shadow, my hope is that we will learn something, grow a bit wiser and ultimately, find the peace, hope and joy we are so desperately seeking.