Death doesn't wait. It doesn't wait for you to have the laundry folded, or the kids well-rested. It doesn't wait for you to say good-bye. It doesn't wait for all the weddings or until the grandkids are grown.
It comes anyway.
People descend upon death like...something. My writing mind can't think of at the moment. But regardless of what of the metaphor is, they come. Dropping everything and coming right away. They bring food to feed an army and rags and brooms. Because what else can they do when there's nothing you can do.
And in that moment, even when nobody thinks they'll ever eat again, is the first gentle reminder that life goes on.
They each come and hug you and ask "Are you okay?"
As my brother-in-law said yesterday, "No. I am not okay." We are NOT OKAY.
But as my mother-in-law later said, "But we will be."
I woke up at 5:30 this morning with a phrase from Elder Uchtdorf running through my head.
How grateful I am to my Heavenly Father that in His plan there are no true endings, only everlasting beginnings.
That gratitude, even through all the sorrow ran throughout the evening yesterday. How grateful we are for the priesthood blessings, for the unexpectedness of moving out here and unknowingly getting one last year to really spend time with Steve, the blessing that Mike is not on his mission yet, but Steve got to know that his papers were in.
We are grateful for the knowledge that families are eternal. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't end the shock.
But, somehow, through it all there has been peace. The cousins all played wonderfully together. A beautiful reminder of the legacy of a great man.
Please pray for us. Please pray for my sweet husband and his family.
We are not okay.
But we will be.