Wednesday, March 26, 2008

P*E*R*S*O*N*A

I dislike pretense. I want people to be "real." I don't care for "personas." According to Wikipedia, (the place to go for everything) Persona literally means "mask ", although it does not usually refer to a literal mask but to the "social masks" all humans supposedly wear. We all do it to some degree so maybe it's inevitable, but really, I just want to be the same person wherever I am and whoever I am with. Maybe that's why I was never any good at acting nor can I pull off April Fool's jokes. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate some who can act and those who can pull off a joke, but what I don't care for is the little role playing we slip into here and there to impress or to set a stage.

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Seedlings of God

"Life does not begin with birth, nor does it end with death. Prior to our birth, we dwelled as spirit children with our Father in Heaven. There we eagerly anticipated the possibility of coming to earth and obtaining a physical body. Knowingly we wanted the risks of mortality, which would allow the exercise of agency and accountability. “This life [was to become] a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God.” (Alma 12:24.) But we regarded the returning home as the best part of that long-awaited trip, just as we do now. Before embarking on any journey, we like to have some assurance of a round-trip ticket. Returning from earth to life in our heavenly home requires passage through—and not around—the doors of death. We were born to die, and we die to live. (See 2 Cor. 6:9.) As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven."

Elder Russell M. Nelson



Sunday, March 23, 2008

March 19th


My dear friend Kathy died last Wednesday. I spoke at her funeral yesterday. She had been in a coma for two and a half weeks, in a rehabilitation/care center for four weeks before that, and in the hospital several times before that. In all this upheaval of the past few months I just realized that I didn't even know the date she had died or even what the date was today. I hadn't gathered my wits about me enough to put all of this into the normal perspective of life. I just looked at the calendar a few minutes ago and for the first time it registered that she died on March 19. How could that be? It seems so bizarre and surreal. In one sense it is eternally distant from January which was when her problems became unusually intense and insurmountable and in another sense it's too insanely close. How can just a normal date in the year become a death date for someone you love? We've all heard that saying - that each year we unknowingly pass our own death date - a quiet anniversary in reverse of which none of us are aware. I find myself wondering what Kathy did last March 19. I assume we maybe talked to each other on that day. Neither of us would have even remotely thought that death would have taken her by this time the next year. Kathy had health problems that we knew would at some point be problematic and yes even fatal, but we all went on as if it were 10 or 15 years down the road.

March 19 is one month after my birthday. I did not think on that day that she would go one month later. At that point I was still hoping for rehabilitation. I find myself staring at the calendar. It reminds me of looking at the obituary section of the newspaper - two dimensional - matter-of-fact - one way communication - a smiling picture and blurb that conveys little or nothing of the recent events and those whose lives were forever changed by the death.

I haven't been able to really post since this situation became intense. I would sit down to write and nothing, absolutely nothing would come out. Writing seemed a very distant second to actual experience. And I still can't write about the details of helping a close friend die. It's too close and it seems a violation of something. I realize it's a matter of time and things will come out in bits and pieces and stages. I hope to post a tribute to my friend sometime soon. Tonight it's just a cognitive awareness that March 19 will never be the same - at least not for a long while. Next year as this date passes I will think to myself, "I can't believe it's already been a year." And the year after that, and the year after that.

Monday, March 10, 2008

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETHANY!!


Bethany was my Israel baby. Meaning, she was born just about 9 months after our 1982 trip to Egypt and Israel. We named her Bethany after the little town outside of Jerusalem where Martha and Mary lived. Here Lazarus was raised from the dead. As you walk the dusty, narrow road from Bethany into Jerusalem you come up over the Mount of Olives and suddenly there before you is all of Jerusalem spread out in magnificent splendor. I felt Bethany's enthusiasm for this new adventure called life even before she was born. I sensed her presence and excitement and eagerness to get the show on the road.

As a baby Bethany smiled and communicated with everyone she came in contact with. I had strangers stop me every time we were out to tell me what a beautiful and friendly baby I had. She was eager to be involved with everyone and to try everything.

Bethany brought a great deal of spiritual maturity with her. When she was about three we were having a family home evening lesson and a question was asked about the purpose of life. Bethany responded with an answer worthy of an adult. Randy and I looked at each other and said, "We haven't taught her that!"

Bethany's gifts are music, writing, people, spirituality, depth of insight and much more. She was married last July. She is 25 today! Happy Birthday Bethany. Thanks for being a part of my life. I love you!




Friday, March 7, 2008

???

I'm staring at my computer screen trying to decide what to write. My mind is drawing a blank just as it has done the last four or five times I've tried to post. My good friend Kathy is in the ICU on life support. It's been a difficult and emotional week. I keep thinking I should have much to write about as writing is usually a catharsis but I can't get the heart to write anything - even or especially trivial tidbits. So, maybe later I'll have something surface.