When Life Hands You Sour Lemons, Add Some Sugar

So in March, one of the greatest men I knew passed away. He was my comforter, my supporter, my friend, and my grandfather. He went to my first play with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, and kissed me on the cheek after telling me how proud he was of me. He comforted me when I went to him with tears in my eyes about my problems, holding me in his arms and telling me everything would be okay. He laughed at every single one of my jokes and was always on my side, even against my parents. He made me laugh every chance he could, and showed me exactly what it means to love your wife with every fiber of your being. He was such a great example to me of what a real man is and showed me every time I was with my grandparents how a woman should be treated. He instilled some great values of family in my father and even though he wasn't a member, I think most of his family ideals were better than even some family's in past wards I've been in have had. He was honestly and truly one of my favorite people and I've never in my life imagined life without him. He's always been like a second dad to me and I thought of him as invincible. I knew he was going to be with me when I got married, shaking his fist at whoever my future husband will be, telling him to treat me right or he'll get a lesson from one of the military's finest. I knew he would be there to hold his great grand children and be a comforter, supporter, and friend to them like he was to me.

Last semester, I woke up to eleven missed phone calls from my mom and four from my brother. My mom left me urgent voicemails telling me to call her back, and her voice was cracking and sounded like she had been crying. I didn't want to call her back. I didn't want to hear the bad news. But then my phone rang again, as I answered the phone and listened to my mom, my eyes swelled with tears and my heart sank. I didn't believe it. I laid my head on my pillow and told myself to wake up. This couldn't be happening, not now, not to me, not while I was in Idaho, away from my family. I told my mom I had to go and started getting busy. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I got prepared for class. I had to keep myself busy or else it would get worse. I would start thinking and lose it. When my roommate saw me crying she asked what was wrong and I couldn't spit out the words. I felt like if I said it out loud, then it would be final. I silently cried in her arms and told her what my mom had just told me. She held me, telling me how sorry she was and that she was here for me. I stood up and told her I had to get ready for class. I put on some makeup and my clothes and thought some fresh air would help. Even though it was -9 degrees outside with heavy winds, I walked. The wind in my face numbed me and my tears froze before they could run down my face. When I got to class, I broke down, silently sobbing in the back row during the lecture. A girl in my class offered to help me, but I graciously declined. I don't need help. I never need help. My friends told me to pray and watch Mormon Messages, but I didn't do either. I told them I did, but I didn't. I was so angry with God for taking away my loving grandfather. I was so angry at God for making me so alone. I had no one. No family, no friends that I really felt close with. No one. I was going to spite God and make sure He knew I was having a hard time and that I would make it through this without Him. The first two days were excruciating. All I wanted to do was cry, I occasionally looked at the sky and said "I hope You're happy. You caused these tears." Then, one day in my communications class, a girl gave a devotional on courage. She showed a Mormon Message that made me cry. "You never know how strong you are, until being strong is all you have left." I knew that at this point, being strong was the only thing I had left. And all of my strength was reliant on the Lord. I went back to my apartment and prayed. I prayed like I've never prayed before. I told God exactly how I felt, my perspective, my state of mind, and how I hated everything. Then I watched another Mormon Message called Mountains To Climb. In this one, the Brazilian man was going through something very similar to me, and he turned away from God as well, but then he came back. And because he came back, he was able to make it through everything. He was able to dull the pain and the heartache and have the Lord there to comfort him. After watching that video, I asked my cousin to give me a blessing. I needed the Lord. No matter how much pride I have, nothing can be done without the Lord's help. In this blessing, I was told that my grandfather was comforted, that God prepared him for what was to come and that he is being taken care of.

I've been able to gain such a strong testimony of eternal families, even though my grandpa wasn't a member, I know that right now he's in heaven, receiving the missionary lessons from my aunt. :) I know that in a year we'll do his temple work and our family will be able to be together again. I know that he will be there when I go through major milestones in my life. The veil is thin and he is always with my family. He would never leave my grandmother alone. Whenever I think of my grandparents, I know that families are forever, because when you love each other that much, it won't stop after you die. So even though this was the most difficult thing I have ever had to deal with, and I would never wish this type of an experience on anyone else, I was able to gain a stronger testimony and grow closer to the Lord.

Every few days I get sad all over again, like right now, and even though I may have tears streaming down my face while typing this, I know that I'm not alone anymore. The Lord does not want me to be alone. He won't let me. And even though life handed me a large basket of sour lemons, throughout this experience, I was able to accumulate enough sugar to make a great lemonade.