Tsunami Pain To Living Water Peace

I have always heard and read the expression "pain that takes your breath away" but truly I didn't understand  the literalness of that  phrase.

 It sounds poetic on paper.. sounds sadly romantic in novels.

 It is neither poetic or romantic.

It is excruciating.

It is a pain that, for me, takes on the characteristics of water. A tsunami of pain that wells up in my abdomen and with increasing fury crests upward through my stomach and crashes where my heart is. It takes my emotions and hurls them in a swirling underwater grip. It threatens to drown  me. I am forced to hold my breath to avoid swallowing deep gulps of  that agony until I can thread my way through the pounding waters to the surface where faith is the lifeline that I grab onto to keep afloat till the next wave comes. Any water I do swallow exits my body through the tears I cry. It is a re-occurring tidal wave that I endure every time I think about my Dad now.

My Dad, my hero, my example, my friend, my strong tower was diagnosed with ALS - better known as Lou Gehrigs Disease. It is terminal...and here comes that wave of pain again! I have not been able to talk about it. Hard enough to bear that tsunami without verbalizing it. This is my attempt to accept it and to talk about it now.

Isn't it funny how something so mundane, so ordinary as the idea of water can not only be used to describe pain but to also be means of remembering so many important events or lessons. Just as a calm lake reflects the mural of nature around it, water, in it's various forms, can reflect cherished memories throughout my life.

The ocean;
 Pismo Beach, a place where Dad has gone since he was a boy, where he took us so often that the tent at the campsite felt like our second home. Family pictures under the old eucalyptus tree and Dad's  trademark disgusted smirk at how long it always took yet a big ol' smile for the picture.  Dad and dutch oven meals that tasted soo good! "Eureka! I found some!" Family around campfires, laughing, telling stories, reminiscing  and always Dad bearing his testimony and sharing  his love for all  of us.
 Dad loading up the rubber raft with  as many as would fit then pulling us out deep enough so that the sun drenched waves would send us bouncing back to shore. Dad- needing a wee bit bigger wetsuit each year and finally happy to sit on his beach chair under the umbrella, like a king on his throne, making himself available for the grandkids that run back and forth  from the water to his chair, just to see him.

Rivers and lakes -
Yellowstone and the God awful river rafting  that lasted 8 hours for SOME of us.
Big Stump hiking to the lake. Dad giving me his love of hiking and of the great outdoors. Dad hiking or walking no matter what, in woods, in deserts, in neighborhoods, in mountains, along rivers, in suburbs.

Big Stump and the camping,  exploring, us  kids getting lost and knowing dad would come find us and he did! Family pictures on top of massive tree stumps so big and tall dad would have to lift us up so we could climb atop. Dad's trademark disgusted smirk cuz it would take so long yet a big ol' smile when he saw those photo's later.

Tule River behind our house where we fished, jumped in off a rope swing, The Tule River house where we learned to build as we helped dad put additions on the house, learned to paint when we helped dad paint the outside of the house. Learned the importance of food storage when food and not us kids were the occupants of the neatest biggest wooden playhouse  we had ever seen. The Tule River House where we had horses and I got to go horseback riding with my dad. Tule River house where getting good reception on the TV was interupted everytime mom used a kitchen appliance so I learned Star Trek was more important then mom making dinner. Then later having no TV because dad realized family was more important then Star Trek.Where I learned that beating dad at Risk meant having to pick up all the little squares that when flying when dad threw the board off the table! Boy, could I roll those double sixes.

Hose and Sprinklers

I have a love of gardening, of growing things, an appreciation of  the peace that comes from being outside from my dad. My earliest memories include dad and  him watering something! I learned to work and work hard. If it wasnt our own garden and vines, it was church welfare farms.  I learned the contentment of  enjoying  the gentle sway of a glider swing and doing nothing  but  being apart of the landscape as it changed magically from hour to hour; the gift of sunrises and sunsets. Waiting  the 20 minutes then moving the hose to the next row to water various veggies and fruits. Weeding.. and dad's trademark disgusted smirk at how Adam had caused all the noxious weeds yet the big ol' smile when his gardens and flowers were pristine. Like my dad. I can always be found outside somewhere, weeding, hiking, sitting on my glider swing, feeding critters or simply absorbing the peace that nature brings.

Glass of water-

 I learned to respect my dad because of my Mom. Whenever Dad was working outside doing anything you could be guarenteed to hear my mom request one of us, usually me, to take dad a cold glass of water. She would mention how hot  or thirsty he would be , how hard he was working and how much it would mean that  we thought about him. She has always hidden special treats  that dad likes the best in his drawer. She would tell us how much it meant  to a man that never even received a birthday card from his family growing up. She always made every effort to think about dad and expected and taught us to also think about dad, to show our love.  She always demanded we respect him and respect him we did. I valued and cared about my dad because I saw my mom value and care about him first and it all began with, " Your dad is probably hot and thirsty, why don't you take him a cold glass of water." That example  and the way I feel about dad has helped me honor and respect my husband who also gets a cold drink when he is working outside because of that lesson in honoring and showing love to my dad.

Tears

Knowing my dad wasn't too proud to cry over us, in front of us, because of us. To  see his tears accompany testimony, or teary eyes when we made him proud. Tears when asking for forgiveness, or the best kind for me, tears because I make him laugh so hard!

The sacramental bread and water
The bread and water that represents the greatest legacy dad left to all of us.
It is the way he implemented the greatest gift given to all of us: the atonement. Being the eldest of all the siblings I had a first hand knowledge and front row seat to Dad's ability to utilize the atonement. The Dad I grew up with  was a different man then the one my younger siblings grew up with. I, like all of you, learned  and witnessed many lessons about  the atonement from Dad.

Humility: It takes a broken heart and contrite spirit to look inside ones soul, to see faults, qualities that need refining mistakes to be corrected. It takes humility to ask God to show us these weaknesses so that in turn he can make them strengths as promised in the scriptures. Dad started out with a wee too much pride, a sin that from time to time plagues  us all. YEt, because of his quest to be more Christlike, to be a better husband, father, friend, disciple- he taught us humility because of the atonement.

Courage:  It is one thing to acknowledge our weaknesses but quite another to do anything about them. To do something about them takes a special brand of courage that only the atonement can provide. Dad never used well worn excuses or shirked responsibility for his actions, his words or  his deeds. He didnt throw his hands in the air and say well it is too late to change. WHat he did was have the courage to give up a business and return to school some 20 years from graduating High school. He had the courage to sell our  home on 20 acres and move into town to take classes specific to the areas he wanted to improve in.He had courage to move to Utah to graduate from an University. HE had the courage to  rewire his thought processes, to realign his actions to be a better husband, father, friend ,disciple. He taught us courage because of the atonement.

Faith- The courage couldn't have been possible without Faith in the atonement. Faith that  Christ's gift to him and to us could indeed wipe away the sins and errors he  lamented over. Faith that CHrists gift to him and to us could indeed give us the power to overcome all, not some,  but all of the weaknesses  that weigh us down. Faith in the knowledge that because of the atonement  CHrist could heal hearts, mend spirits, give strength and comfort when tears flow freely, when hearts are breaking, when bodies are wounded. Dad had  Faith in the atonement  that he would live again! He had Faith that he could be a better husband, father, friend ,disciple. He taught us Faith in the atonement.
When we take the sacrament, when we partake of the bread and drink the water,I hope dad's humility, courage and faith in the Atonement of Christ increases our own. and that we also will want ot be better husbands and wives, fathers and mothers friends and disciples of Christ.

 Lastly...

Living Water-

 My dad taught me  about Jesus, bread of life, living water. He taught me  the gospel; taught me about faith, prayer,committment, covenants and his example of the atonement in his life taught me I can change! It is never too late to come unto Christ. It is that knowledge and testimony that now sustains me in this  great pain. The faith  and hope I have in my Savior  that Dad will be my dad forever. Because of God's  promise of Eternal life and eternal families, the flood of pain might  buffet me, toss me, threaten to suffocate me but it will not drown me. The total belief and testimony I have anchors me safely. If I flounder it is  Christs's hand that reaches down to pull me up for air. That He loves and comforts me, is a life preserver keeping me afloat.

  I did not want my dad to die. I do not want to finish my time on earth without my rock. But I know it is merely a momentary separation.

 It is Christ's promises that help me to  find peace and solace that, as this disease took control, denying my dad of  the use of his limbs, of his voice, of swallowing and other ravages,  it will only have a little while to do so. It's temporary victory will be swallowed up in the resurrection that comes to all ,from that infinite atonement. Dad will bear testimony again, laugh again, display his trademark disgusted smirk again. He will hike again, work again, garden again and when I, at last, go and join him in our heavenly home, I will, once more, bring him a cold glass of water.

In the name of Jesus Christ amen