The Thrill of the Fight!: Never Enough (Just A Heartbeat Away)

With the loss of my grandfather this week and his sister-in-law just over 2 weeks prior, I have done a lot of thinking lately. I remember at Aunt Maralyn's funeral, it seemed the hugging never stopped. Despite the sadness at her loss, especially at the pain of so many loved ones with much closer relationships to her than my own, I found myself continually marveling at the beauty of eternity. I was able to have a great conversation with my second cousin I had never met because although his older sister & I went to high school together, he was adopted after their family moved across the country. I was blessed to be overwhelmed with the power of my cousins' beautiful testimonies in word and in song. I saw, hugged, and couldn't seem to stop conversing with loved ones I'm lucky to see every few years, almost always at funerals.

I'm so richly blessed with the immediate family members who surround me, I sometimes manage to forget the love that spreads across and back through countless generations throughout eternity. My eternal family is so much more than my grandparents, my parents, 7 siblings, 8 nieces and nephews. It is hundreds upon thousands, some I know with whom I cherish reunions and so many more hundreds of thousands who joined together to create me. As much as I know her children and grandchildren ache for her earthly presence, I felt so much joy in the knowledge my aunt was reunited with her parents whose love we cherish so much our little Everett carries her father's name.

My grandpa's father passed away when Grandpa was only 10 years old. Quickly following the sting of his loss, at least for me, was the realization of what a joyful reunion that must have been. I pondered how much he must be loving the opportunity to know his father as a man, to learn all the times he was right beside him throughout this life and Grandpa never knew. I realized that morning, as Facebook did its little "hey, remember this?" thing, that on the same date 3 years prior to my grandfather's death I was privileged to be in the House of the Lord with him for the only time in my life. What a beautiful, tender mercy. Although I've taken the opportunity many times to go with my grandmother, my grandfather's health made it impossible for him to even walk to the far side of the temple where we originally intended to take the group photo. I was never again able to attend the temple with him. I'm so grateful he braved all that discomfort to support Andrew, Tricia, Lincoln, Owen, and little surprise Westley that day as they became an eternal family. I was honored to kneel at his feet and place booties over his shoes, as is customary for those attending sealings to prevent damage to the Lord's House from things which might be tracked in by wearing street shoes in the temple.

The past several years our family's joy in being together was overshadowed by a dark, absolutely massive cloud in the form of a hole in our little Emmy Lyn's heart. The need for surgery was predicted multiple times, and we shuddered in dread every time we anticipated that day. Since that time we have received many blessings which lead us to have so much hope for the day she does have to face that trial. This song did not exist when we were at our darkest place, but it describes my feelings so perfectly I can't imagine not having heard it before this year. Living in fear, desperately trying to get "enough" time with my sweet girl, I constantly heard this voice screaming inside of me "it will never be enough".

Here's the thing I'm forever trying to recognize and take solace in, especially this week: it will never be enough in this mortal life. If I spent every second with the people I love, I would still never have enough time to appease the eternal need I have to be with them. And there is nothing on this earth to rival that love. There is nothing more pure and beautiful than that knowledge. This sorrow I've been fleeing all week, which will inevitably crash down sooner rather than later, is so perfect in the pain because it means I have loved and been treasured more than this mortal life can hope to satisfy. It is impossible, and that is the perfection in our Heavenly Father's plan.