Real

Nothing can prepare you for the moment a doctor walks up to you, shaking his head. His eyes and mouth both saying "I'm so sorry". I'll never forget his face. I'll never forget that look. Of course, it was kind of him to say sorry, even though he had no idea what he had to be sorry about. He had no idea what I'd lost. He didn't know me, he didn't know Mitch. And yet, here he was. A stranger. Delivering the worst news of my entire life.

That moment. It was if I could feel the earth crack with the weight of the news under my feet. My jaw fell open and nothing felt real. I tumbled into an abyss, where I felt more like an observer than a participant. I had nothing to hold on to. I kept falling. And falling. I struggled to breathe. Finally, the words, "can I see him?" fell out.

I walked into the room where he was. I knew he was gone. But I couldn't. I can't. grasp it. It was him but it wasn't him. He felt so far away. It felt more like staring at the tickets for the trip you took, than the trip itself. It felt nothing like him. So strange. I'll never be able to put that night into words. There was no comfort in what he'd left and yet I couldn't walk away because I knew it was the last time.

I obviously don't know how it goes, the transition into the next life. As much as I wished he could have been with me for those dark hours, I knew he was with them. He was with the people waiting so anxiously for him on the other side. But that's not to say I was alone, I knew the people on the other side who loved me were there in that hospital room with the apologetic doctor and the sound of my beating heart.

I can picture him, being greeted by them. His jaw hanging in disbelief. Am I really...here? And undoubtedly, someone who loves him, approaching him saying, "We are very glad you're here. We've been waiting for you. You're not going back. I'm so sorry." And then my name on his lips, and the quick reassurance from some relative of mine telling him that I'll be fine. And him, half-joking half-serious, "Do you know her? I'm not so sure." They laugh. "Yes, we are sure. We will help her. You will help her." And only with those last four words, he knows he can somehow accept this new situation. So he nods, tears in his eyes and determination in his face. "Ok"

If you observe carefully, you will notice that the grieving pay particular attention to the sky. To the moon, the sunrise, the stars, the sunset, the clouds. Our eyes are fixed upward. This may seem curious to some, but not to us. We are looking for them. And we find them. 

I still can't believe you're gone, Mitch. I love you more and more every day. "I miss you" falls so, so short. I know you're looking out for me and I know you're helping me. I know you love me. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“May I say for the consolation of those who mourn, and for the comfort and guidance of all of us, that no righteous man is ever taken before his time. In the case of the faithful saints, they are simply transferred to other fields of labor. The Lord’s work goes on in this life, in the world of spirits, and in the kingdoms of glory where men go after their resurrection.” 

Joseph Fielding Smith