Why So Quiet?

I sat alone in sacrament meeting today. My dear companion who sat by my side for 54 years had departed this life. When I returned home, the deafening silence greeted me as I entered our home. Only hours before the home had been filled with laughter, happiness and lively grandchildren who were loving the joy of being together. And now it was as silent as the Garden Tomb.

After the funeral yesterday, we enjoyed a meal together provided by the generous Relief Society sisters of our ward. Then that was followed by a rousing dance party out on the basketball court. There was happiness and there was nothing but frivolity. I was tired, but they were not.

And then today, it was silent and I was alone with my thoughts.

Oh, my thoughts! How many, how varied, how consistent and how tranquil. I re-watched her funeral online at the Larkin Mortuary website. I shed a few more tears as I listened to our wonderful children share their talents with the audience. 

I told them I wanted two things out of the funeral - to edify and inspire the congregation, and to show them her good example. Both goals of mine were met, I believe.

I have had so many tell me her funeral was one of the finest they have ever attended. Lance Larkin, my cousin, reminded me of what Elder LeGrand Richards once told him about funerals. He said he had been to many funerals during his long life, and that there were good ones and there were bad ones. The good ones, he said, were about good people, and the bad ones, well, you can finish the sentence. Lance told me, "This was a good woman." I echo his sentiment.

I loved hearing her teachings to her children recounted and now embodied in their lives. She taught them how to pray, how to love their Savior, how to serve others without reservation and how to live their lives faithfully here in mortality. 

And then, far too soon for all of us, she took her leave. She went into another room, as she often did when we had said our prayers and I climbed into bed and fell asleep. She, on the other hand, was up again and in another part of the house preparing something good to eat for her loved ones or someone in our ward who was in need of her loving outreach. I would awaken a few hours later, and find my bed empty while she toiled in preparation. Not unlike what I feel now and realize she isn't coming back to bed.

That's what her death represents for me. She has merely gone ahead into another room to make preparations for me and all our posterity. That she will do it with grace, with lovingkindness, and with patience I have no doubts. It may not involve vacuuming the carpet or making good food to eat, but it will involve spiritual sustenance for which each of us craves.

I told the grandchildren before we closed the lid on her casket that she now has superpowers - she can "fly." My meaning is that she will fly quickly to their sides in times of trouble, or times of need, or times of turbulence, or times even of joy. 

I told them to listen carefully for her gentle invitations to do better, to reach a little higher, try a little harder, persist in faith a little longer. In those moments she will meet them and give them the needed encouragement and spiritual strength which she can dispense from a deep treasury of her own making.

She loves the Lord Jesus Christ. Her whole life was anchored in Him. She became much like Him in all His attributes.

I read these words this afternoon, as I opened my copy of The Teachings of Harold B. Lee. It was as if I could hear his voice speaking directly to me:

"Don't be afraid of the testing and trials of life. Sometimes when you are going through the most severe tests, you will be nearer to God than you have any idea, for like the experience of the Master Himself in the temptations on the mount, in the Garden of Gethsemane, and on the cross at Calvary, the scriptures record, 'And, behold, angels came and ministered unto him' (Matthew 4:11). Sometimes that may happen to you in the midst of your trials." (THBL, p. 192).

She has gone into another room, not far away, and left me to ponder, "Why so quiet?" And the answer seems to suggest, "So that you may hear her when she comes to minister to you."