Sue G. and I went and visited Dorothy I., a former member of our ward, who moved to Upland. She is dying of pancreatic cancer - and her 24 year old daughter is getting married tomorrow in the Redlands Temple. Her husband has arranged medical transport and a gurney so she can attend the wedding. Her less-active sister has put together all the arrangements for the reception, which will be held in the home - so family can come into the bedroom and visit with Dorothy if she is up to it.
I was nervous about going - I have not had a lot of experience with death and wasn't sure if I would know what to say that would be helpful. Her husband sends regular email updates, so I was aware of her medical condition but wasn't sure how it would be emotionally.
Surprisingly she looked very good. Apparently her doctor says that she looks much healthier than she really is. She laid there with her eyes closed most of the time, occasionally pushing on her morphine pump. But she would participate in the conversation and seemed to want to talk to us about her experience.
I have felt overwhelmed of late with all the issues in my life, none of which are as devastating as hers. However, we all know that the worst trials are the ones with which we are personally dealing. So I didn't go away thinking, "Well, it certainly could be worse."
What impressed me was her concern that she was handling her trial well. She was concerned about dying in a way that would be a credit to her and a blessing to her family. Concerned that she could keep the faith and not succumb to discouragement and despair. Concerned that she was setting the right example to those around her.
And that caused me to reflect on how I am handling my trials. Am I handling them in a way that is a credit to me and a blessing to those around me? Am I keeping the faith? Not succumbing to discouragement and despair? Setting the right example to those around me?
I want to let her know how much she helped me - she who is feeling that she isn't doing anything. They do truly serve "who only stand and wait."
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8 comments:
I love this post Barbara.
I find there have been times in my life when others, unbeknownst to them, have touched or changed me. I am grateful to them.
Thanks!
ahhh yes trials. I am teaching the lesson this week in relief society. it's about our spiritual heritage - which seems to be full of trials.
Our spiritual present seems to be full of them as well.
I do enjoy reading about the pioneers - they seem to handle things much more gracefully and faithfully than I do.
But I do find that in retrospect I have learned from my trials, not all the time, but often.
Thanks Barbara, for giving me something to reflect on also.
The idea that the hardest trials are the ones given to us is one I hadn't thought of concretely, and I think I like that. It takes off a measure of guilt; it's unhealthy to compare ourselves to others when we're trying to deal with our trials. It's good to recognize that others have hard times, of course; but not to keep score or to think, "It could be worse."
Also I'm thinking of the Carol Lynn Pearson poem: "God does not grade on a curve;/I'm sure of it."
Thanks for your post.
Also, unrelated: happy engagement anniversary (July 14, right?)
I love that poem about God not grading on a curve - the line about having enough for all of us - and us hating to see others get ahead because that means less for us! How often we forget that!
Hey, I'm teaching too. I have been looking forward to teaching this lesson all month.
A great book about that very thing (your own trials, etc.) is Victor Frankl's Man's Search For Meaning. His account of experiences in Nazi death camps.
Man's Search for Meaning was on my list of books to read a while ago--I want to say a year or two ago?--but I never checked it out. Maybe now I will.
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