I ran a half marathon a week ago. As I ran I thought about my family. I thought about how much I love them and how I can't wait for that day when we can all receive that fullness of joy again when we are reunited I thought about playing with Jace, and wiping his face after he ate his meals, and his messy kisses. I thought about Sheldon and his strength and his unconditional love for me. I thought about being in Sheldon's arms and being able to tell him how much I love him again. I miss them so deeply. That will never change. I have gotten through seven months of being without them. I do realize there will be many, many more.
I missed the general Relief Society Broadcast because it was during my half marathon run. I just listened to it. I really do believe those message were inspired to help me and all of those who have lost their loved ones. I was very touched when I heard the story about Mary Lois Walker. She lost her young son and husband within twenty days of each other. Sometimes through this trial, I do feel so very alone. Not many can understand how truly difficult it has been. Losing my son, my husband, my family, my life, my everything, has been the most difficult thing I have ever had to live through. Most days I ache to join my family. Choosing to live and engage in daily life is a struggle. I have drawn so much strength from listening to Mary's story and coming to understand that all truly can be made right through our Savior and His atonement.
"The example of a faithful pioneer sister illustrates this truth. Mary Lois Walker was married at age 17 to John T. Morris in St. Louis, Missouri. They crossed the plains with the Saints in 1853, entering the Salt Lake Valley shortly after their first anniversary. On their journey they had suffered the privations typical of other Saints. But their sufferings and adversity did not end when they reached the Salt Lake Valley. The following year Mary, then 19, wrote: “A son was born to us. … One evening when he was two or three months old … something whispered to me, ‘You will lose that little one.’”
During the winter the baby’s health declined. “We did all we
could, … but the baby grew steadily worse. … On the second of February he
passed away … and so I drank the bitter cup of parting from my own flesh and
blood.” But her trials were still not over. Mary’s husband was also stricken,
and three weeks after losing her baby, he died.
Mary wrote: “So was I, while yet in my teens, bereft in the
short period of 20 days, of my husband and my only child, in a strange land
hundreds of miles from my blood kin and with a mountain of difficulty before me
… and I wished that I too, might die and join my loved one[s].”
Mary continues: “One Sunday evening I was taking a walk with
my friend. … I was reminded of [my husband’s] absence and my intense
loneliness, and as I wept bitterly I could see, as it were in mental vision,
the steep hill of life I should have to climb and felt the reality of it with
great force. A deep depression settled upon me, for the enemy knows when to
attack us, but our [Savior, Jesus Christ,] is mighty to save. Through … the
help given of the Father, I was able to battle with all the force which seemed
to be arrayed against me at this time.”
