"Youth comes but once in a lifetime..." Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tonight found me lying on the floor in my boy's room looking up at three wiggly, full-of-life children hearing the goodnight story of their father.  Bear, grabbing Darrin's neck. Tess, snuggling up under a blanket.  Malia, trying to situate her long, (very long) limbs in a manner that she could still see the pictures and also manage to snuggle in to her daddy.  So much vitality in this little room.  So many cells regenerating and neural networks making new connections.

Just a few hours earlier I got a call from my dad informing me that my grandma had had a sudden hemorrhagic stroke.  Her neural networks were now disassociating after all those years of working together until finally, her breathing stopped.  She had passed.  Something about getting an announcement like this out of nowhere.  I feel a little shaky tonight.  Heart a little exposed and raw.  I struggle with the logistics of it all.  Life is messy.  Sometimes I wish we could just enter and exit all at the same time.  Wouldn't that be lovely?  I think in my mind, Lord, if you could just take this small seed and make it grow.  Make me shake with assurity and not doubt.

I think of my Grandma's husband, Clarence, who passed on about 10 or so years ago.  My Grandma missed him so.   And I do too.  25 years ago Grandpa took me into the water and gave me the first of many ordinances I would need in this life.  Love radiated from that man.  I'm sure my grandma always felt very loved.  How happy she must be right now.  Embracing her true love.

With our faith, death not only brings sadness, but such utter sweetness of soul and peace of mind.  My dad told me a sweet moment that happened today.  He was leaning over grandma telling her his goodbyes, and in true Kenny fashion, made a joke.  "I guess I won't be calling you up to tell you the BYU game is on anymore.  But, that's okay because I think their good games are behind them now.  You were here for the good ones."  He said he didn't know, but a nurse was in the room and overheard his comment.  She came up to him a moment later and razzed him a little by telling him she was raised catholic and went to a catholic school, and "sorry, but I was rooting for Notre Dame on Saturday."  And then my dad said she stopped, held his arm, and said something to the effect of  "teasing aside, I've never felt a spirit like this in a room where someone is passing.   The spirit is strong here."  My Uncle Doug had just before given a powerful blessing and my dad said the spirit in the room was very strong and peaceful.

I know that life goes on after this mortal experience.  Youth is indeed fleeting. And yet, it does not leave us, but is passed on.  Tonight I saw my grandma's cheeks when I looked at Malia's face, in Tessa's eyelashes I saw my beautiful grandma looking at me, in Jeremiah's love of sports and physicality I saw my grandma rooting on her favorite team.  (My grandma loved sports way more than my grandpa ever did).  Yes, youth may come but once in a lifetime...but my goodness, look how it lives on.  And never ends.