Serving a Mission

July 29th
Rich and I went to church today at the Arcadia Foothill building so we could hear the daughters of our friends give farewell talks. One of the girls, Lauren, is going to BYU and her older sister, Cammie, is leaving to serve a mission in South Carolina. I used to tell Rich there was no way I could every be apart from one of our girls for 18 months while they served a mission. How could I go through my day without hearing their voice or being hugged by my girls? In fact, until we went to temple and were sealed to our daughters for time and all eternity, I would experience ocassional panic attacks. Knowing that we were sealed together forever took away those terrifying moments. Now my little girl is off serving a mission. Not in the Carolina's somewhere or in some foreign country where a second language is necessary to communicate, but she is serving a mission on the other side of the veil for her heavenly father. Having watched the reactions of friends and family to Amanda's passing and the Choose The Right message that was shared during her service being carried forward, I am certain that Amanda has impacted and changed many lives for the good. Still... I selfishly wish our separation was only to be for a short 18 months, and when she has finished her mission she will return to earthly home for us to raise her. 


People keep asking me how I'm doing. My typical response to that question BEFORE Amanda's death would have been "good" or "great", but now all I can think of is "I'm hanging in". The truth is most of the time I do feel good because of the comfort the Lord and Amanda have been sending.  Sometimes I actually feel guilty for not grieving more. I can hold it all together most of the time because I find myself taking each breath, each minute, each moment, each hour, each day, and each night as they come. I can manage if I keep living in the now. It's those desperate glances towards the future that throw me off... moments when the reality of not seeing my little girl until the next phase of our lives that sends my heart racing in panic and desperation. I ache so much from the loss of her physical being next to mine. Tonight as I made preparations for our Sunday night family dinner with our girls and their boyfriends, I felt that now familiar and unwanted panic creeping up on me, stealing away my strength. I kept thinking, "this dinner table should be set for 7 people(or 8 if Amanda's boyfriend also came), not six. We should be fighting over who has to sit in the oddball chair." There is an awkwardness about my life now. Hovering on the border of who I was before July 11th, who I am now, and who I am to become. As I sink in to this new life without one of my greatest lifes blessings, I find myself wondering where this new journey will take me. Will I make her proud of how I respond to this new way of living... without her?


Eventually, I know that people will move on with their lives. The condolence cards will stop coming. Her friends won't forget her, but they will have days when she isn't the first and last thing they think about. They will have nights when they dont feel the need to cry themselves to sleep. They will find joy and laughter in the simple beauty of life and live as though she were living through them. Will those days come for our family too?  As much as I want to always remember her, I don't want it to always hurt to remember.


Amanda is serving a new mission now. One I know she didn't plan on serving for many, many years. Life is what it is though. There is no magic spell, wand, or fairy dust to change the outcome or our new circumstances. When people ask me how many daughters I have, I will always say "THREE!" with love and pride in my heart. Two that are with us, and one that is serving a mission for the Lord.