I had a good cry about a week ago. It's been a while since I let it all out when thinking about Sid's diagnosis. But as this day (and week) has crept closer all of the memories of this same week, last year, have come flooding back.
A year ago today life shifted for us. Honestly, I feel like I've lived 6 years in the past 365 days (give or take some). There's a part of me that wants to try and explain what I was feeling and experiencing; it somehow seems significant to do so, even if just for documentation purposes. But trying to put it into words seems impossible; it's a bit too personal to lay it all out, and at some point it's only really comprehended if you're actually experiencing it. I obviously don't wish that on anyone. But even in reflecting on the gloomy and painful memories I am reminded of many kindnesses. There was, and is, a lot of support and an incredible amount of love. I do love remembering that part.
I also want to express gratitude for how wonderful our position is right now. Last year I didn't have a clue as to what I could count on having in a month, let alone a year. We have been so lucky and blessed to have a lot of "best case" scenarios come our way.
Knowing the crushing weight I was under a year ago and how much has eased since then I'm reminded of a talk given by Joseph B. Wirthlin during the October 2006 General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The talk, in it's entirety, is absolutely wonderful and I would encourage your to read/listen/watch it. But there is one spot, in particular, I'd like to include here. After sharing stories of loved ones and the pain of their passings, Elder Wirthlin then described the devastations of the Friday when Christ was crucified.
He then says, "Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. -
But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come."
In some ways we've made it to a Sunday. I'd go as far to say that we're on daylight savings Sunday - the day is here but some things are a bit disoriented, ha ha. We'll be staving off cancer for the foreseeable future in some shape or form. But there has been a lot of relief since this all began. A lot more appreciation for the time we get to have together and a better resolve to look for the good. Believe me, there's a lot to be found.
But the whole point of me writing this post was that I wanted to say thank you to all who have been with us through this. Thank you for grieving and mourning with us. Thank you for serving and loving us. Thank you for encouraging us and celebrating with us!
Cheers and here's hoping for many more years!
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