Tag Archives: Family

The Face of Grief

This was me five years ago.
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A lot has changed since then.

Four years ago I got married…
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and got a new-step-daughter.
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Three years ago, my daughter left.

By left, I mean that she left without a word. And except for one short email to tell me that she was nowhere near the massive flooding that was happening where we thought she was living, I haven’t heard from her since.

No explanation. No goodbye. Just gone.

It’s mind-boggling, really. Was I a perfect mother? Of course not. The only perfect person who ever walked the earth was Jesus Christ. But I am sure that I did nothing to warrant this loss, and that I did the best I could for her.

I gave her opportunities to develop her talents…

Oil painting

Oil painting

Flute in Concert Band

Flute in Concert Band

Saxophone

Saxophone

and interests.

War of 1812 Re-enactments at Stoney Creek

War of 1812 Re-enactments at Stoney Creek

Photography (Self-Portrait)

Photography (Self-Portrait)

Curling

Curling

Lord of the Rings Online: Aerieth the Elf (her) and Edrod the Dwarf (me)

Lord of the Rings Online: Aerieth the Elf (her) and Edrod the Dwarf (me)

I traveled with her all over Canada and the eastern United States…

Northwest Territories

Northwest Territories

Ontario

Ontario

Nunavut

Nunavut

went on a tour of Newfoundland…

Gander Bay

Gander Bay

Bonavista

Bonavista

Twillingate

Twillingate

and, with my parents, gave her a cruise as her high school graduation present.
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I encouraged her to have friends from all over, to care about her family, to savor special occasions….

My nephew's christening

My nephew’s christening

My parents' 40th anniversary

My parents’ 40th anniversary

Extended family

Extended family

Step-sisters

Step-sisters

Church camp with her best friend

Church camp with her best friend

Our wedding

Our wedding

My brother's wedding

My brother’s wedding

Boating with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and us

Boating with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and us

And yet, she’s gone.

But that is not all I lost on the day she left.

I lost my godmother, who is one of my aunts, as well as her husband, her two sons, their spouses, and three children. Some of them not only knew what she was planning, but along with her biological father, encouraged it, and helped her to do it in secret. Some of them say they didn’t know. I don’t know who to believe. And even if relations are ever restored, how does one learn to trust again in people who had a hand in such as this?

I lost the close rapport I had with some of my own extended family. Some because they didn’t and still don’t know what to say; others because they pretend she never existed; still others who blame me for her leaving.

I lost a whole slew of people that were supposed to be friends, but had no kind words to say after she left.

But I have also gained some things as well.

I finally realized one of the reasons why the little girl I was so close to when I lived in Pond Inlet died – so helpful to us in life, she has also helped me in death by giving me a taste of that sense of loss long before I felt the loss of my daughter. Though she is not dead, her absence in our lives is felt every day.

I finally am able to pray as I should, something that was denied to me for many years as a result of my first marriage. After it ended, I would become physically ill whenever I prayed, and had resorted to cursory and perfunctory prayers much of the time. Now I can pray again – every day is a constant prayer that she is safe, making good choices, happy.

I finally have realized – or at least have some small inkling – of just what it means when the scriptures say that Heavenly Father lost a third of His children. Why should I exempt myself from what He has experienced?

I finally know that healing of all kinds comes through the Atonement of Christ. “The Savior’s atonement in the garden and on the cross is intimate as well as infinite. Infinite in that it spans the eternities. Intimate in that the Savior felt each person’s pains, sufferings, and sicknesses. Consequently, he knows how to carry our sorrows and relieve our burdens that we might be healed from within, made whole persons, and receive everlasting joy in his kingdom.”

I hope one day she will return to us. If she does, she will be welcomed with open arms, a prodigal daughter to a mother who misses her.

This was me five years ago.

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And this is me today.

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Church Service Missions

Altoona Pennsylvania Stake Conference, Nov 22, 2014

In the fall of 2012 I was teaching in northern Manitoba, Canada, about 750 miles north of Fargo, North Dakota. My husband and I had been married for two and a half years, and I had taken this position teaching in a remote Cree Indian community for something to do while we waited for immigration to allow me to come to the United States to live with him and my step-daughter. During those first years of our marriage we spent a lot of time on Skype – we turned on Skype when we got up in the morning, and turned it off when one of us fell asleep at night. With little else to do in the community I was living in, I was spending a lot of time online while we were Skyping. One night I was on LDS.org and was just sort of clicking my way through all sorts of links on there, when I stumbled across a page that talked about part-time church service missions. As I read, I got more and more excited. As a convert to the church in my mid-twenties with a nine-year old daughter, I didn’t have the opportunity to serve a mission, so I found this prospect intriguing. I, for one, always imagined that church service missionaries were retired older members, probably married, with no children at home, and looking for something worthwhile to do in their golden years. And that used to be the standard. But no longer! If you have as little as eight hours a week to spare, you can qualify to serve a church-service mission!

You, like me, may not realize just how many different kinds of church service missions there are. Some are full-time; some are part-time. Some require travel; some are at-home. They all fall under one of the areas found in the four-fold mission of the church – helping members live the gospel of Jesus Christ, gathering Israel through missionary efforts, caring for the poor and needy, and enabling the salvation of the dead. But one thing is clear…if there is something you love to do, there is probably a mission for it.

Do you like taking pictures? There’s a mission for that! Church-service photographers are sent a topic each week, spend a few hours taking pictures, then submit them to the church. These photos are then used by website developers, church magazine editors, the Mormon Newsroom, and other church departments to create and enhance content on the church’s more than 200 official websites.

Do you like looking at pictures that other people have taken? There’s a mission for that! While you are checking submitted photos to ensure they meet our standards, you also tag them so that when someone is looking for pictures to add to a website or article, they can quickly find them.

Do you like technology? There’s a mission for that! If you have tech skills, you could be developing apps and other tools for members, making online games for children, creating music apps, or offering technical support.

Do you like family history? There are missions for that! Indexing, research, data specialist, online support – these are just some ways that you could serve a family history mission.

Do you like helping people with their problems? There are missions for that! From Addiction Recovery to Bishops’ Storehouses to Mormon Helping Hands there is a way for you to serve. And if you have medical training, there are even humanitarian cruises where you spend five months on board a navy ship traveling from port to port giving medical attention to underprivileged areas of the world!

Do you like building or fixing things, talking to people, answering phones, working with youth, teaching, helping the missionaries, enhancing military relations, swimming, camping? There are missions for all of these things!

There are even at-home church service missions for youth and young adults who cannot serve a full-time regular mission!

So, after praying about it for several months and having several conversations with church employees about it, I submitted my mission papers and a few months later was called as an Operations Specialist for the LDS.org Response Team in the new church department called Communication Services. Now, that’s a mouthful!

But what do the thirty-five of us on the LDS.org Response Team really do? Well, you know the little Do You Have Feedback About This Page? link at the bottom of all the church web pages? I answer the feedback. I typically respond to 500 or more messages a month dealing with all sorts of topics. I answer a lot of Welfare, Calendar, Directory and Newsletter questions, and I also answer a lot of questions in Spanish, Portuguese, French, German, Italian, Bulgarian and Romanian – and no! I don’t speak all of those languages! Some of us are specialists in different areas. I, for example, am the Specialist for all the feedback for Study Notebook, whether it’s in the online Notes or the various Gospel Library apps. If you have trouble with highlights, tags, links, journals, bookmarks, notebooks or notes, more than likely I am the one who will respond!

Sometimes the Team is given special assignments. Anyone who is in Primary is probably aware of the Primary Resource Pages. These are thematic compilations of every related article, song, movie, game or other resource found on LDS.org that are suitable for children, and are a great help for Primary teachers and families looking for activities for lessons and family home evening. I was part of the group that accepted the request from the General Primary Presidency to find the resources for this resource.

Another special assignment that I was part of involved checking the materials available in other languages to be sure that the links worked and that all available translated documents were posted online.

And yet another special project that I am involved with is image tagging so that church departments can easily find images. A few weeks ago I sent an email to Young Men and Young Women leaders about this project and how the youth and other members can get involved. If you haven’t seen it yet, please ask me or your youth leaders about it. I strongly encourage you to help out with this worthwhile project!

President Monson said in 2013, “You may sometimes be tempted to say, ‘Will my influence make any difference? I am just one. Will my service affect the work that dramatically?’ I testify to you that it will. You will never be able to measure your influence for good” (Thomas S. Monson, LDS.org News and Events, June 24, 2013).

I didn’t know when I decided to serve an at-home part-time mission that I would be involved in any of the above activities. But there is no doubt that I have had opportunities to be an influence for good. Working with Study Notebook has led to the developers knowing what works and what doesn’t work, and in some small part this has resulted in changes being made to how it syncs with the apps for the over 2 000 000 current users. My work with the Primary Pages has benefited thousands of Primary teachers. I have had online discussions with hostile anti-Mormons who have written to me later and told me that they changed their minds about us and apologizing for things they said. I have brought several inactive members back to church. These are people I will never meet from places I will never go. I have sent countless golden contact referrals to the missionaries. And because I sometimes forget to remove my name tag after church activities, I have had the opportunity to heighten the church’s presence in my own community.

Since 1979, the Church-service missionary program has provided a growing and varied number of opportunities to serve. This important missionary workforce helps many Church departments and operations provide needed products and services, while at the same time, safe-guarding the integrity of tithing funds. Serving others brings great blessings to the tens of thousands of us who serve, to our families, and to the Church worldwide. I invite you to prayerfully consider joining me in hastening the work by serving a church service mission. It’s just an hour a day. You won’t regret it! In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Forward with Faith…or The Plague of the 3 Ds

Note: This post was originally written as an adaptation to a talk (sermon) that I gave early this year.

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On New Year’s Eve my husband and I stood on our front porch at the stroke of midnight listening to the laughter and festivities taking place on our street. “Here’s to a better year,” he said. To which I replied, “Surely it can only get better from here?”

You see, this past year was marked by the three Ds that have plagued our marriage for all of its three and half years. Death, disease and disappointment seem to have been the hallmark of our marriage. Last month was no exception. Among the three deaths that affected me in December was one of my brightest students that I taught last year on the Cree Indian Reservation where I worked in northern Manitoba. Not technically diseases, but certainly health issues abounded. Between a bad fall, kidney stones, and a dog attack, things were not pleasant. And this Christmas we were supposed to spend the holidays with my family in Newfoundland, which I was dearly looking forward to, as was my three year old nephew whom I miss dreadfully.

I suppose we shouldn’t have been surprised by the trials we endured in December, and in a way, we weren’t. Those of you who don’t know us very well could think that I was over-exaggerating when I said that our marriage has been plagued by those three Ds. It started the week before our marriage, actually, when a sewage flood in the apartment I was renting ruined nearly everything for the wedding, followed by the loss of 300 report card files that had to be redone, 12 hours of hair care, and a day in the hospital due to kidney stones.

Then we got married.

Since then I have lost my grandmother and other relatives, several friends, and many former students, most of them to suicide; I have had health issues with every major organ in my body; my step-daughter has had ongoing issues with her ears and other problems resulting from the illness of her mother and her subsequent moving halfway across the country; some of our relatives shunned us for a whole year because we asked them to watch a Christmas Devotional with us; my old van literally blew up in the driveway; my replacement vehicle was stolen and ended up costing about $10 000 in repairs over the course of the year as a result; my husband’s car was broken into when he met me in Montreal for our immigration interviews; due to immigration laws and issues, we were separated for three and a half years, not the nine to fourteen months we had expected; our oldest daughter ran away from home two years ago and hasn’t spoken to any of us since. And this is the shortened list.

When such things occur, it is human nature to wonder why these trials and tribulations happen. Why me? is a popular refrain amongst those suffering intense adversity. Perhaps the better question is: Why not me? Understanding why such things occur in our lives is a key step toward being able to move forward with faith.

W. N. Partridge in his book entitled ‘All These Things Gain Us Experience’ gives us five reasons why we have afflictions.

First, punishment is one reason that we have trials. Indeed, it is human nature to assume that our trials are punishment for some misdeed we have committed. But this is not always so. We turn to various means to attempt to make sense of what is happening to us.

Falling to our knees in prayer is one way we attempt to make sense of the things that are happening in our lives. Our cries of woe are further reinforced in our minds when we feel that our prayers for relief have gone unanswered. But Richard G. Scott teaches us that, “It is a mistake to assume that every prayer we offer will be answered immediately…. When He answers yes, it is to give us confidence. When He answers no, it is to prevent error. When He withholds an answer, it is to have us grow through faith in Him, obedience to His commandments, and a willingness to act on truth.”

When we look to the scriptures for answers, we fall upon passages such as that of Lot’s wife, who through disobedience to God’s commandments was turned into a pillar of salt. But, as Partridge explains, “Lot’s wife…wasn’t just looking back; in her heart she wanted to go back. It would appear that even before she was past the city limits, she was already missing what Sodom and Gomorrah had offered her…. So it isn’t just that she looked back; she looked back longingly…. To yearn to go back to a world that cannot be lived in now, to be perennially dissatisfied with present circumstances and have only dismal views of the future, and to miss the here and now and tomorrow because we are so trapped in the there and then and yesterday are some of the sins of Lot’s wife.”

Are we like Lot’s wife, holding on to the familiar yet discordant past in fear of what is to come? When we feel we are being punished for some misdeed, it is easy to wallow in self-pity and guilt, to maintain the status quo. As much as we do not like what is happening, some small part of us thinks that we must deserve to be punished, or that, as the saying goes, better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. Moving forward is difficult in the best of times; moving forward with faith in times of trial, to exchange a known way of being that we can bear, regardless of how terrible the experience is, for perhaps an unknown trial that we cannot, is a frightening prospect.

But, we cannot remain stagnant and expect to grow as an individual, as a family, as a community, or as a nation. One of the purposes of punishment is to help us effect a change for the better in our lives, to be more obedient to the will of the Lord, to strive to better those around us through service. Lot and his daughters learned a hard lesson that day about the consequences of disobedience, just as the inhabitants of the earth did when they failed to listen to Noah‘s voice and the rains started to fall, and the Nephites who became slaves to the Lamanites after the martyrdom of Abinadi. They knew they had done wrong, as the scriptures record that “they did cry mightily to God…that he would deliver them out of their afflictions.”

So it is with us.  As we learn the lessons of obedience, we, too, can have our afflictions lessened as we go forward with faith.

A second reason that we are given afflictions is to help us remember our duty. Affliction is not limited to people of my faith. Indeed, anyone who believes in God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ, have taken upon themselves certain duties when they become believers. When we became members of this Church, we took upon ourselves many duties – to obey the commandments, pray daily, read scriptures, bear one another’s burdens, mourn with those who mourn, accept callings….the list goes on. Afflictions help us to remember those duties, for if we do not remember them, we begin to forget God, and Satan creeps into our lives.

This is what happened to Lehi and his family in Mosiah 1:17. “Therefore, as they were unfaithful they did not prosper nor progress in their journey, but were driven back, and incurred the displeasure of God upon them; and therefore they were smitten with famine and sore afflictions, to stir them up in the remembrance of their duty.” Lehi had been wandering for eight years in the desert, forgot God, and was afflicted. Not just afflicted, mind you, but SORE afflicted.

In the Doctrine and Covenants 121 we read of Joseph Smith’s pleas to Heavenly Father while in Liberty Jail: O God,  where art thou? In Section 122, we read the Lord’s response to those pleas, wherein He asks fifteen questions of Joseph, ending with the phrase, “know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee  experience, and shall be for thy good.”

When we have afflictions and honestly feel that we have not done anything to warrant such punishment, we should ask ourselves if we are remembering our duty to God. To move forward with faith through such trials, we must fulfill all of our responsibilities, magnify our callings, pay a full tithe and a generous fast offering, keep the Sabbath Day holy, obey the commandments, do our visiting and home teaching, support our leaders, fellowship with other members, follow the counsel of the prophets, and live up to our roles as parents. In the midst of affliction it is easy to let these things fall to the wayside. The harder path is to move forward with faith by striving to do each of these things more perfectly.

A third reason that we have afflictions is so that we can be an example for others. Seeing how others overcome afflictions in their lives can help us to move forward with faith when we are faced with our own afflictions. In Alma 17:11 the Lord says to the four sons of Mosiah as they are starting their fourteen year mission among the Lamanites that, “…ye shall be patient in long-suffering and afflictions, that ye may show forth good examples unto them in me…” Can you imagine how those young men must have felt knowing that they were about to have fourteen years of afflictions? And yet, they moved forward with faith, because they had been promised that if they bore their afflictions they would have much success.

Oftimes we are not being afflicted because of wickedness or because we have forgotten God in our daily lives. Health problems, unemployment, family crisis, death, financial issues, natural disasters come to both the unrighteous and the righteous. When righteous individuals are afflicted in such ways, it is to show that even in the midst of trials those who know God can be examples of hope to those around them by going forward with faith.

Although not a member of our church, my husband’s Aunt Anne, who has been afflicted with a very painful condition her entire adult life, is a wonderful example for my family. Despite her condition, she is one of the brightest, most cheerful people you could ever meet. And when her only daughter and son-in-law asked her if they would consider moving closer to them, the first thing Aunt Anne did was to go to her knees in prayer, not once, but several times.  She received the answer that she and Uncle Hal needed to move to be near their only child. They immediately flew halfway across the country, chose a home site, contracted a builder, and put their home up for sale. The amazing thing about this, however, is not that she prayed and acted upon the response she received. The amazing thing is that her daughter lives in Oklahoma City. In fact, when the big tornado was sweeping through the community, cousin Amy’s home was in its direct path. She went to the safest part of their home and prayed fervently that her home would be spared and her husband would make it home safely. And…the tornado changed direction at the beginning of her street. Amy’s house sustained little damage – the worst was a section of fence that fell down. But less than a quarter of a mile away, complete destruction reigned. Whole neighbourhoods gone, with just foundations showing where homes once stood. And it was in the midst of this chaos that Aunt Anne and Uncle Hal decided to follow the Lord’s prompting to give up all they had worked their entire lives to build, to leave behind friends and activities and the very comfortable life they had made for themselves in their retirement, and to move forward with faith to begin again.

A fourth reason that we have afflictions is to prepare us for something that we need to learn.

When I was growing up I was an active member of my Protestant church. When I became pregnant at age eighteen, my entire family was devastated. My minister told me that if I did not get married, my child would be “a sin and an abomination.” I remember looking at her, and with a sinking heart, telling her that if that is what her church believed, then I could no longer be a member of that church. I spent the next several years raising my daughter, while going to university full-time, taking extra classes, and working anywhere between four to seven part-time jobs. My parents or brother would fly the 900 miles to the province I was living in to pick my daughter up during exam periods so that I could have time to study, but the rest of the time, I was largely on my own with her while at university.

It was during this time that I began my search for a church that I could believe in. I knew that I was not an atheist or agnostic – I knew that God exists. I read everything that I could find about every other religion I had ever heard about, talked to ecclesiastical leaders from any number of congregations, searched online. In every religion I found truths, but there was always something that told me that each one was not quite right for me.

One night I saw an ad for a free Book of Mormon on television, and gave the number a call. I spent six years reading, studying, talking to missionaries, and going to church before I was baptized. To make it clear how active I was in this Church before my baptism, I had one brother exclaim, “You’re not baptized? I thought you must have been born in the Church! Well, that explains why I could never figure out why you didn’t have a calling!”

My experiences as a pregnant teenager and unwed mother were very difficult to go through, but they prepared me to go forward with faith to find the true church, and as a result, my husband and step-daughter.

Finally, sometimes we are given trials to test our patience and faith. In Abraham 3:25 we are told that we should expect lots of trials and adversity. Christ says in that verse that “…we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them.” A modern-day definition of the word ‘prove’ means to determine quality through tests. But the archaic meaning of the word makes our purpose here on earth even clearer. It means to find out or learn something through experience. How do we gain that experience? Through trials and tribulations, adversity and afflictions.

After I joined the church, I, like many others I suppose, had this naive idea that things could only get better. I quickly found a suitable spouse, and after a short period of time, we were married in the temple. Since it took me six years to be baptized, I’m sure you can appreciate that I rarely do things on a whim, but rather study them out and choose the best option. Getting married was no different. On seven different occasions I prayed about it, and each time was prompted to pick up the nearest scriptures and open them at random. I picked up seven different scriptures – at home and in the temple, hard bound and soft bound, triples and quads, old and new – and each time I opened the scriptures, I found myself reading Doc. and Cov. 104:51, which reads, “And this I have commanded to be done for your salvation.” I figured, hey! this must be a sign, right? Seven different scriptures all telling me the same thing?

So imagine my dismay when things rapidly went downhill. As in, we walked out of the temple, into the chapel, and things start to go wrong. The diamonds fell out of my wedding band. I spent most of the reception in the bathroom being violently ill. My new father-in-law kept referring to his son as the ‘gloom’ instead of the groom. Long story short, the marriage didn’t last long and my husband was eventually excommunicated.

Fast forward about a year and a half. I was living a scant five minutes from the temple, and I spent a lot of time there because I knew for certain that that was the one place that my ex would not be. I prayed day after day in the temple for an answer as to why these things had happened when I felt so sure that I was supposed to marry this guy.

One February day I was sitting in the chapel inside the temple, praying about this matter and pondering again on that scripture…”And this I have commanded to be done for your salvation”… when I heard as clear as a bell, a voice say to me, “What comes next?”

I had never thought to continue reading that verse. I picked up the nearest scriptures and read the following, “And this I have commanded to be done for your salvation, The covenants being broken through transgression, by covetousness and feigned words—  Therefore, you are dissolved as a united order with your brethren, that you are not bound only up to this hour unto them.” Well, I thought, that is pretty clear. The covenants had been broken, through transgression, covetousness, and lies, we were divorced or not bound to each other any longer, and he had been given the opportunity to seek salvation through repentance.

I was telling this story to my Stake President one day a few months later, and he, knowing everything that had happened in that marriage, commented, “I do not understand why you are still a member. I have known countless people who have left the church over far less than what you have experienced.” My reply? “Where else can I go? I believe the Book of Mormon is scripture. I know Joseph Smith is a prophet. I have a strong testimony in the sealing ordinances of our temples. There is no other place for me to go.”

My patience and faith were sorely tried during this time of my life, but I also know that the scriptures give us this promise: “Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me….And I will…ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders…” (Mosiah 24:13-14). The only sure thing to do in times of hardship is to go forward with faith, believing that God will ease our burdens.

Here is the thing about afflictions – the difficulty of the trial depends upon the individual and the circumstances that cause the affliction. And what passes as an affliction for one person, could be a great blessing for another. Take, for example, a heavy rain after a season of drought. For the couple hosting a backyard barbeque, this rain is certainly not a blessing. But for the farmer, this same rain will save his crop and allow him to provide for his family. If we learn to approach our understanding of our trials by looking for the blessings found therein, we can move forward in faith.

Those 3 Ds of Death, Disease, and Disappointment that I mentioned had plagued our marriage? All blessings in disguise.

If I had not had the opportunity to care for my grandmother for several hours each day in the pain-filled months preceding her death, I would not have had the opportunity to bear to her my testimony. I would not have had the opportunity to have her say to me, “You know, perhaps that’s what I believe, too.”

If I had not had all those health issues, I doubt that our marriage would have lasted. For example, in our first year of marriage we expected that we would be able to spend about six weeks that summer together, and perhaps one or two other weeks throughout the year. As a result of my illnesses, we actually spent close to seven months together in that first year.

As Doctrine and Covenants  122:9 tells us, “…fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.” This promise, given to Joseph as he lay languishing in Liberty Jail, holds true for us as well.  If we bear our afflictions well, we, too, can move forward with faith with the sure knowledge that God will be with us forever and ever.

Dishrags

1968. A man and a woman, madly in love, left home and went upalong* to seek their fortune. Those were my parents. And eventually it led to me being born in the heart of Scarborough, the big city, the land of opportunity. But the pull of Newfoundland on the heartstrings was too strong for my parents to bear, and back home they went, back to family and friends, harbours and bogs, and making ends meet no matter the cost.

It was a good childhood. You know, I never knew we were poor until I went to university and was told so by a professor. I mean, I had always had everything I wanted. I was never hungry, never threadbare, never cold. There was good homemade food, new clothes, a wood stove to keep us warm. I can still remember the smell of mom’s homemade bread baking in the oven…waiting for it to come out so we could have thick pieces spread generously with molasses and fresh cow’s cream. If heaven has a smell, I think it must be like that sweet, fresh, hot bread. And waiting for the fresh milk to be scalded was sheer torture. Too hot or too long and all that beautiful, delicious cream would be wasted. It had to be just right. Rhubarb jam, snuck by the tablespoonful when no one was looking, blueberry duffs, bakeapples, salt meat, salt fish dripping in butter and partridgeberry jam. Even now that I am a vegetarian my one yearly bottle of partridgeberry jam is saved for special occasions, and until 2008 it was reserved exclusively for fish. (To a Newfoundlander, whether born or bred, fish means cod. Salt cod.) My men over the years quickly learned that that precious ruby bottle was not to be used for toast, and the biggest argument I remember having with one of them was over my bottle of ‘home’. Smoked caplin, fresh out of the smoking shed, eyes watering as they were stolen from uncles who always seemed to turn their backs when they knew we were skulking nearby. Of course, since we had spent many long, cold, wet hours skivering those caplin on to dry, poking their eye sockets onto nails on the skivers, we felt that we deserved to taste the fruits of our labours. We weren’t so eager to taste the squid that we hung, though. Making sure that their tentacles were wrapped around the flakes was hard business, but putting them in the toaster later made a crispy treat. Fresh potatoes, beet, carrots, cabbage, turnip greens from the garden, berries from the bogs and marshes and patches, moose and rabbit and birds enough to share with extended family. Cakes, cookies, trifles. The Sunday dinners of roasts and vegetables and gravy and canned fruit with Fussell’s cream. Salmon, cod, trout caught with our own hands. Purity syrup and fruitcake at Christmas. We weren’t poor as near as I could tell.

And the clothes! My God, can my mother sew! You know, when I was in high school my class went on a trip to Quebec. I left my mother with three patterns and a bolt of cloth and strict instructions that I wanted the neck of one pattern, the bodice of the second, and the skirt of the third. We got back the day before graduation and my dress fit like a glove. An off the shoulder beautiful salmon pink, with a flowing skirt, and handmade rosettes. Mom made my Sunbeam uniform for church, dozens of dresses, shorts, shirts, and other clothes, too, and quilts both plain and fancy. And give her a ball of yarn and some needles and she can create masterpieces of lacey intricate design, sweaters and afghans and baby blankets like you’ve never seen before. I think I was in grade 3 when she made my “angel shirt”. Everyone had to have one. The sleeves could be thrown back over your shoulders and when you ran it looked like you were wearing wings, angel wings. We used to pretend that we were angels, like my Uncle Derek, who having just drowned, was an angel. We tried to run fast enough with our angel wings so that we could see him again. But we never could. We could just remember him chasing us when the caplin was on, handfuls of slimy fish ready to be shoved down the back of our shirts instead of buried in the potato garden for fertilizer.

My grandmother is talented, too. She made sweaters for each of her living children one year when they were very young. I think we all still have them, passed down from mothers or fathers to daughters and sons and then to grandchildren. Three generations wearing those same hand-knit sweaters, Nan’s loving touch carrying through the years. Mom’s sweater was mustard yellow with a beautiful green and blue and red skater spinning in eternal rounds, worn by mom and me and my daughter, and now put away for my future grand-daughters and step-daughter and perhaps other children. Quilts and blankets for all her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, numbering now in the fifties, hold the evidence of her care for us, each one lovingly stitched with our names and the dates they were given. Nan is in her eighties now, still knitting, still showing her love by the work of her hands. Hats, mitts, vamps, scarfs. And lately, dishrags. Dishrags by the dozens. Sometimes left plain, out of the plainest wool, sometimes fancy in bright jewel-toned reds and greens with silver and gold peeking through, especially for Christmas, sometimes stitched together into drawers with cute sayings. Some people ask for big gifts for Christmas, but not me. Whenever Nan asks me what I want, I tell her I want the same thing I want every year – dishrags. “Haven’t you got some left?”, she says. “Yes,” I reply, “but you can never have enough dishrags,” I tell her. Truth is, I’m saving up. Living away from home for so long and having had such terrible relationships before now, sometimes it’s the little things that remind me of who I am and that I am loved. Doing dishes with Nan’s dishrags, knowing they were made with love just for me, is something I look forward to. Sometimes those dishrags were the only thing that got me through the heartache and the pain and the disappointment. I ask for them every Christmas, every birthday, because I have to save up. With these dishrags in my hands every day, how could I ever forget that I am loved when Nan, and her precious dishrags, are gone?

*upalong: mainland Canada, as opposed to ‘down home’, which for a Newfoundlander always means Newfoundland.

The Kind of Guy My Husband Is

Shortly before I left Pennsylvania my husband and I were working on a project late one evening. We had come to a part that I could do on my own, and he declared that he thought he should lie down for awhile, not to go to bed but just to rest. An hour or so later, I woke him so that he could complete his portion of the project.

By the time he had finished, he was exhausted. I commented that he looked very tired and that he should go to bed. He was reluctant to do so – there were so many things he could be doing. I replied that he was obviously tired and needed to rest. He began to state that he didn’t know why he was so tired when a light of sudden realization came to him – he had given a blessing that day. “Actually, two blessings,” I smiled. He pondered that for a moment, having forgotten momentarily about the blessing he had given me that morning before my last medical procedure, before commenting that he always felt drained after giving a blessing, so two blessings had literally wiped him out.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy that shows up at work to find a member of his previous ward waiting patiently outside his office, hoping that my husband would consent to give him a blessing. There are dozens of other men this brother could have called upon for a blessing, several of whom who would have gone to his house if given a phone call, causing little disruption to his day. Instead, he chose to sit outside my husband’s office and wait just in case he showed up. Why? Because he knew from personal experience that my husband takes his priesthood responsibilities seriously.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who for seventeen years stayed in a marriage where his wife told him outright that she did not love him and under no circumstances wanted any more children. He stayed in that marriage until counselled by those in authority that this was an untenable situation. Even then, he left that ultimate decision up to her. Then, in an effort to ensure that his ex-wife had every opportunity to get her life together and be able to provide for her and their daughter, not only paid off her credit card balance of thousands of dollars but paid 111% more child support than he should have over a two year period. That’s right – 111% more than he should have. In other words, more than double. He even paid a little extra every month because the leaders of our church have encouraged fathers to be generous with child support payments. It was only when he became responsible for a new family that he sought to change these obligations. Why? Because it was in his daughter’s best interest that her mother be afforded every opportunity to find work, get her life together and learn to be a good mother to their daughter, and because he took very seriously the sacred covenants he had made with her and with Heavenly Father when they knelt across the altar in the holy temple.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who worries that he will not be able to be much of a father figure for his new eighteen year old step-daughter. He knows that her experiences of fatherhood both in and out of the church have been less than ideal. He knows that he cannot undo years of hurt and disappointment by others. He knows that now that she is an adult there will be few opportunities for her to experience a loving Latter-day Saint home with parents who work together to support each other and raise their children in righteousness. But he does what he can, inviting her for family prayer and family scripture study, calling her just to chat about things the two of them have in common, sending her interesting news tidbits via email. Why? Because he doesn’t want that branch of our family line to dwindle in unbelief, and he knows how much it means to me that he does these things.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who even before our marriage started showing how much he cares for me by staying with me in the hospital most of the day before our wedding, who immediately added me to his health care benefits as soon as we were married, who made arrangements for me to see doctors this summer and have treatments that would have taken months and months to have performed at home. Even when medication and pain turned me into an ogre he was right there next to me, tending to my every need, and doing little things to cheer me up. Were there rough patches in those first two months? Of course. But he stood by me and stuck with me. Why? Because husbands take care of their wives no matter what.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who takes his spirituality very seriously. So, having decided at age sixteen that he wanted to join our church he respected his parents’ wishes that he wait a little while before doing so, but continued to attend and learn and study. Once baptized, he served a mission where he was made a zone leader because of his abilities. And then, about ten years ago, was appointed president of a small branch overseas where his leadership resulted in a six hundred and fifty percent increase in members. Why? Because once he takes responsibility for something, he sticks with it until he has done the very best he can to fulfil his responsibilities pleasingly and faithfully.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who goes all out in everything he does. It wasn’t enough to write a normal term paper like everyone else in university – he had to write a one hundred fifty page paper on an undeciphered script, which eventually became a major thesis paper that, over the past twenty years or so, has led to major developments in discovering the secrets of this forgotten language. It wasn’t enough to have an intense interest in economics and politics and history – he had to become a writer for a magazine that has published over one hundred eighty of his articles. It wasn’t enough to have a passing interest in beetles – he and his best friend decided to pool their respective collections to form a lending library of the over thirty thousand specimens that the two of them have collected over the years from around the world. Why? Because he knows that the glory of God is intelligence, and the best way to improve one’s intellectual ability is to share it with others.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who seeks not after recognition, preferring instead to be a slightly eccentric nobody. You won’t find his name on many of the articles he has written. You won’t find his name on a fantasy trilogy that he worked on for five years. You won’t find him doing book signings for the non-fiction books he has written. Why? Because he doesn’t want any of the immoral trappings that often come with fame and fortune.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who, having learned just how dysfunctional my previous relationships have been, told me that he thought I had never truly been honoured as a daughter of God, and wanted to be different from every other guy. Hence, while we did hold hands and give quick hugs before we were married, our first kiss was during out wedding ceremony in my parents’ backyard, with our children and parents and other loved ones watching. What a wonderful gift we were able to give our children in a world that worships immorality –the knowledge that our love was pure and chaste until we were husband and wife. Why? Because he knew that no one else in my life has treated me with such respect.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is.

He’s the kind of guy who in his wedding vows promised to uphold his sacred duties as the priesthood holder in our home by presiding over our family in love and righteousness, providing the necessities of life, and protecting our family. He takes these responsibilities very seriously, always trying to better himself, giving me his encouragement in everything I do, working hard to provide for his daughter and for our future, going without so that his loved ones lack for nothing, and taking martial arts. Why? Because for him there is nothing more important than ensuring his family is well-cared for and safe.

Because of the kind of guy my husband is, I had no qualms whatsoever taking him as my lawful wedded husband after a brief courtship, to have and to hold from that day forward as one who honours his priesthood and carries out his responsibilities pleasingly and faithfully. Because of the kind of guy my husband is, I trust him with all my heart and with all my mind. I look forward to the day when we can be sealed together for time and for all eternity in the holy temple. I know he longs for that day to come, too.

You see, that’s the kind of guy my husband is. And I love him for it.