Grief, Hindsight, and a Dash of Reality

Grief is stupid. One minute you’re laughing and the next you’re trying to conduct music in front of a church congregation and trying not to cry. Grief is also as inconvenient as it is brutally honest. Combine grief with a sprinkle of hindsight and prepare yourself for some pretty heavy self-loathing. But sometimes, I think, we need that dash of reality.

A few months before my 13th birthday, my parents told us they were getting a divorce. As I’m sure you can imagine, that left me lost without any hope of a strong footing. Just as I was finding some mildly even ground to walk on, my dad told me he was going to get married. I was…I’m not sure what I was. It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t necessarily sad. It just was one more tremor of my already shaky ground.

Let me start off by saying, I was not a nice step-child. I felt like the world had crapped on me and that I had every right to be sullen and angry. I did all that I could to stay close to my dad. I did all that I could to distance myself from Charlotte. She tried so many times to show me that she cared for me and that she wasn’t trying to replace my mom. The more she tried, the more I pulled away. I struggled well into adulthood. I couldn’t find that solid ground that I so desperately was seeking. But she never gave up trying.

After Jake and I had been married for a few years, he literally sat me down and told me I had to stop holding Charlotte at a distance. I’m not sure why I kept doing it. (Was it a defense mechanism? Was it because accepting would feel like a disloyalty to my own mother? I’m sure some therapist somewhere would have a field day with me.) It was hard, but I tried. I wish I could say that I was a good person who embraced the love she so freely gave, but I still held her at arm’s-length. But she never gave up trying.

When I started having children, Charlotte and my dad were sure to be as connected to my children as they possibly could. That love was showered on my children and they knew and loved their grandparents. Jake became very loved by Charlotte for his hugs – “Jake Hugs”. She was always very good at telling people “I love you”. And I did much better at accepting but I still kept a tiny barrier up. But she never gave up trying.

I’m not sure when it happened but somewhere through the years, that barrier lessened. It’s only now that I’m realizing that the reason the barrier isn’t there anymore isn’t because of anything I did or said. It really is because she always called to check up on me and my family. It’s because of yearly visits and time spent. It’s because of her effort. It’s because somehow she knew I was a tough nut to crack. But she never gave up trying.

In October of 2020, Jake and I made a trip to Thatcher because Kennedy and Jordan were getting sealed in the Gila Valley Temple. Charlotte met me and my girls at a local boutique. I mean, shopping with the girls is a must. We were all looking at dresses and tried on quite a few. Charlotte and I found the same dress at the same time. They only had one left in a size that would work for both of us. I told her to take it because I knew how much she wanted it. It was cute, comfortable, and had pockets! (The freaking golden prize, am I right?) It looked cute on her too. She tried to give it to me a couple of times, but I told her it was all good. It was perfect for her. She literally tried to give me the clothes off her back. When I wouldn’t take the dress, she tried to give me money for another dress. I wouldn’t take it. I wanted her to keep her cute dress and her money. But she never gave up trying.

On Sunday, January 23rd, my dad called me to tell me he was at the ER with Charlotte. She had been struggling but he was very worried because she couldn’t move. That night, the test results came back and told us she had pancreatic cancer. Further testing would show the cancer had spread from her pancreas to her liver and into her lungs. Tuesday night, I got a phone call from my dad. The hospital was letting all the kids and grandkids come in to see her. I frantically was trying to figure out how to make a very quick trip to Arizona. I think he knew, even then, that I would not make it in time. My dad put me on speakerphone. I had the opportunity to speak with Charlotte. Though her voice and speech were almost gone, I was able to tell her that I loved her and hear her soft “I love you”. My dad assured her he’d give her a gentle “Jake Hug” from us, which – he said – garnered a beautiful smile from her.

Those were the last words we ever got to exchange. As far as last words go, they are the best ones, I suppose. The problem is I’m left with regret and I can tell you that I’d rather deal with physical pain than the sting of regret. Regret hurts so much more. Sometimes, it catches me and I can’t breathe. I regret the wasted time. I regret those years of my reluctance, my distance, my barrier. But I can’t tell you how thankful I am for her patience and long-suffering in dealing with a pain-in-the-butt stepchild. You could probably ascertain that I didn’t deserve any of it. But she never gave up trying.

Grief may be stupid, inconvenient, and brutally honest, but it’s an inconvenience and honesty that’s needed. I thought I had more time. One more visit. One more chance. Don’t make my mistake. I’m mainly writing this all out for me; however, if you find yourself in a situation where you are holding back, afraid or reluctant, just let go. Don’t be like me. Your energy is best spent on those who love you. If you are the one trying to get through to your reluctant loved ones, keep on going. Keep telling them you love them. Keep showing you love them. “Love when it is scary/ Love when it is hard/ Love when you don’t want to/ Love and let down your guard”.

Just, please, whatever you do, never give up trying. You’re needed more than you will ever know.

MOUNTAINS TO CLIMB

This is a talk that I gave in church on January 9, 2022. For my friends of different faiths or those of my atheist friends, you may not be able to apply everything that I spoke about but please know that I will be the boost when you’re trying to take that first step or your safe place when you don’t know how to start your climb.

I know I’ve mentioned before, probably obnoxiously so, how much I love mountains. I grew up at the base of Mount Graham and it’s gorgeous. It’s beautiful. I love it. It was kind of like a source of security and protection because it just encompasses the valley.

I’ve always been a daddy’s girl. Whenever he would head to the mountains to cut wood, or scope out areas to cut wood, or just take a drive to clear his head, I would beg him to take me with. Just me and him. I loved the mountains – something that hasn’t changed. On one particular outing – I was probably 8? 9? 10? – we drove up to the mountains until my dad found a good spot to park and look around. There was a section of rock that was piled up. It was my mountain and I wanted to climb it. He discouraged me explaining that I wasn’t dressed for it (It was summer and I was wearing the traditional summer uniform: shorts, t-shirt, and sneakers – I had flip flops on but he made me put sneakers on before we left.) and that even though it looked like a small climb it was bigger than I thought. Now, I’m sure it’s surprising to some of you guys but I’m a little bit stubborn. So, I complained and pestered and complained and pestered until he finally gave in and told me to climb the mountain. He’d be nearby. Excited, I ran over and started to climb. The first couple of footholds I was doing quite well. On the next foothold, however, the rock gave way and I slid down. I hadn’t made it very far up but even sliding down that short distance made its mark – my hands and knees were bloodied and scraped. In tears, I ran to my dad who scooped me up and made sure I was okay. He would’ve had every right to shake his head at me and tell me “I told you so” but he didn’t. After calming down, we talked about my mountain climbing approach which wasn’t so much of an approach as it was me hoping I could just barrel my way up.

I’ve thought of this experience numerous times throughout my life. We talk a lot in the gospel about “moving mountains” but to me, it’s more important to know how to climb them, create security/shelter from them. More recently, my thoughts have turned to the “mountains” in our lives – pain, doubt, confusion, illness, depression, or any other problem affecting us –  and our need to know the proper approach to “climbing” them instead of just trying to barrel our way up or through. 

That day so many years ago, my dad walked me back over to the climb and pointed out areas that had a better footing than others. I listened intently as he helped me map out a path and I could pick out the areas he was talking about. A foothold here, a place to grab hold there. Each step helped guide and lift me to the next. All the steps needed to be taken in order for me to make it to the top unscathed. Sure, I probably could have hopped around and eventually made it up but I would definitely be worse for the wear. 

After my dad finished explaining the proper approach to my climb. I was too afraid to try again. My hands were raw and throbbing. I had scuffs and scratches on my knees. If you know my dad, you know that “NOT trying” is NEVER an option. He embodies the “walk it off and keep going” mindset. He walked me over to the lowest foothold and once again showed me how to get started. I just didn’t know if I could do it or if I even wanted to try.

In life, sometimes, I just want…to stop. To give up. I don’t know about you but sometimes I grow tired of climbing. It seems as we reach the top of one peak, another looms in our way. Sometimes, I don’t know if I have enough strength, enough faith. President Nelson has told us “…exercising faith can seem overwhelming. At times we may wonder if we can possibly muster enough faith to receive the blessings that we so desperately need…The Lord understands our mortal weakness. We all falter at times. But He also knows of our great potential…The Lord does not require perfect faith for us to have access to His perfect power. But He does ask us to believe” (“Christ Is Risen”).  He goes on to say that “The Savior is never closer to you than when you are facing or climbing a mountain with faith” (Nelson).

I stared at that climb in front of me while my dad offered encouraging words. He assured me he’d stay by me. I shakily lifted one foot and secured it in place. Then I reached with trembling fingers to my first handhold. Cautiously and probably painfully slow, I made progress. I never felt impatience from my dad who I’m sure had other things he wanted to do. He stayed right there encouraging me along the way. I took it one foothold at a time, one reach at a time. Terrified of falling again.

“[Our] mountains will vary, and yet the answer to each of [our] challenges is to increase [our] faith. That takes work. Lazy learners and lax disciples will always struggle to muster even a particle of faith. To do anything well requires effort. Becoming a true disciple of Jesus Christ is no exception

Study…Immerse yourself in the scriptures…Internalize the truth that the Atonement of Jesus Christ applies to you. He took upon Himself your misery, your mistakes, your weakness, and your sins. He paid the compensatory price and provided the power for you to [climb] every mountain you will ever face. You obtain that power with your faith, trust, and willingness to follow Him

[Climbing] your mountains may require a miracle…Miracles come according to your faith in the Lord. Central to that faith is trusting His will and timetable—how and when He will bless you with the miraculous help you desire. Only your unbelief will keep God from blessing you with miracles to move the mountains in your life” (Nelson).

Faith takes work. Faith is a verb and not a passive one. (Well, maybe more of a noun that can be used as an adverb, but you get the point, right?) Faith requires action. If you can do nothing more than have that particle of faith, ask the Lord for help. “The Savior is never closer to you than when you are facing or climbing a mountain with faith.” (Nelson).

It probably took me waaaaaaay longer than it should have to climb that day. But I did it. It wasn’t smooth and it wasn’t skillful but each successful step helped me believe that I could make it. Helped me have more faith that each step would find a solid footing. And, through it all, I knew I wasn’t alone. 

“Through your faith, Jesus Christ will increase your ability to [climb] the mountains in your life, even though your personal challenges may loom as large as Mount Everest” (Nelson).

I don’t know what mountains are currently looming in your way. I don’t know what mountains you may be asked to climb. I can only tell you that no matter how big that mountain is you don’t have to climb it alone. If you can’t remember anything else from my words, please remember that: you do not have to climb it alone.

Choose to believe and have faith. Choose to take the needed step. Not sure what step to take? Ask. Ask for help. Take your question to the Lord. Study with even that small particle of belief and let that faith increase and grow. “The Lord understands our mortal weakness. We all falter at times. But He also knows of our great potential. With faith in Him, we can [climb] the mountains in our lives” (Nelson). So climb. Just take one foothold at a time, one reach at a time, and before you know it, you will reach the top and be stronger for it. 

You are so very loved and no matter what, you never walk nor climb alone.

Works Cited

Nelson , President Russell M. “Christ Is Risen; Faith in Him Will Move Mountains.” The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Apr. 2021, https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2021/04/49nelson?lang=eng.