Day 13

Dear Melynda,

Today has ended well. Today I tried to carry on a conversation with a friend and every other sentence I couldn't get out straight. I think I am tired. She just laughed. I have to be honest. I feel tired. I feel psychically and something else tired. I am not sure what it is. It is something inside that makes me feel like I just want to lay down and sleep. I think it is the daunting task of moving on with life. You see I don't know how. Yup, there you go. Me (who you always thought was such a know-it-all) doesn't know what to do.
Today Kate and I took our lovely time walking around Frederick. There is wonderful boutiques all along Main Street. I know you remember because while I was walking hand-in-hand with Kate I looked across the street and this pain hit me. I looked into the front windows of the shop that we spent hours shopping in. This store is filled with antiques and is deceptively, from the look of the small front door, humongous. If there is one thing you can't resist it is a good deal. We were there for awhile. So here I am walking with Kate and I had the strangest feeling wash over me. I literally wanted to curl up in a ball and just lay on the ground I was hurting so bad. There was literally a porch to someone's townhouse right next to me and I thought, "there is a nice spot". I just wanted to be mad and sit there and shout that it wasn't fair. Then I actually pictured myself doing it and it made me laugh out loud. I have never had a compulsion come over me like that before. Do see all the crazy things you are starting to make me do?
I remember that day. Literally lifting the slab of 1/2 inch thick ice off my car and you saying, "what the heck?! That is why I live in St. George." Followed up with your belly laugh. Taking my three week old baby and going to every shop and walking for hours. You could out shop me any day of the week and I was so exhausted but it was so fun. When I was telling Kate today about our time there she asked me if I bought anything and I said, "No but I am sure your aunt Melynda did. She always found something she loved." I am sure you did even though I can't remember what. I can remember scouring the city streets looking for a fax machine, for something, and you trying to charm the poor bank teller into letting you use theirs. You are shameless (and brave). That is the same day we came home exhausted and frozen and you whipped me up your wonderful biscotti while I laid in bed. It was a good day. One to always remember.
Really though things are generally good I just have this gloom hanging in my heart that I can't seem to kick. Tonight I pulled out my scriptures but decided to go for a General Conference talk instead. I had one of those "flipped to the right page" moments. I turned to this talk. I wanted to share the first story with you:

At the end of a particularly tiring day toward the end of my first week as a General Authority, my briefcase was overloaded and my mind was preoccupied with the question “How can I possibly do this?” I left the office of the Seventy and entered the elevator of the Church Administration Building. As the elevator descended, my head was down and I stared blankly at the floor.

The door opened and someone entered, but I didn’t look up. As the door closed, I heard someone ask, “What are you looking at down there?” I recognized that voice—it was President Thomas S. Monson.

I quickly looked up and responded, “Oh, nothing.” (I’m sure that clever response inspired confidence in my abilities!)

But he had seen my subdued countenance and my heavy briefcase. He smiled and lovingly suggested, while pointing heavenward, “It is better to look up!” As we traveled down one more level, he cheerfully explained that he was on his way to the temple. When he bid me farewell, his parting glance spoke again to my heart, “Now, remember, it is better to look up.”

As we parted, the words of a scripture came to mind: “Believe in God; believe that he is … ; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth.”¹ As I thought of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ’s power, my heart found the comfort I had sought in vain from the floor of that descending elevator.

I know when you were going through hard times I would send you links and clips from some of my favorite talks. Then you would write back about how you felt about them. I remember the last one I sent you was by Elder Uchtdorf called, "Forget Me Not". It is my favorite talk and you shared with me what it meant to you and how you had put its principles to use in your life, so I thought it was my turn to share with you.

I love this story and it has stuck with me since General Conference. I thought it wonderful then when I read it tonight and it was just the answer to my prayer that I needed. I realized something. I am very much like that man. I have my "briefcase full". I am doing my business and going about my life. I am doing what is required of me and trying to move forward. However, I realized tonight that I often spend my time "look at the ground". I am just trying so hard to push through that I forget where I can receive real strength from. Not just "enough" strength to get through but the strength to live, learn and thrive like I am meant to. In one part he says,

Why is it a challenge to consistently look up in our lives? Perhaps we lack the faith that such a simple act can solve our problems. For example, when the children of Israel were bitten by poisonous serpents, Moses was commanded to raise up a brass serpent on a pole. The brass serpent represented Christ. Those who looked up at the serpent, as admonished by the prophet, were healed.⁴ But many others failed to look up, and they perished.⁵

I don't feel as though I am perishing but I also realized I am not thriving. I hope that you are watching over all of us and maybe giving me just a second of your time every now and then. Maybe you helped me find this talk that I needed so much. Carrying on our tradition.

I hope someday I can go to that store and walk those streets and it can be a place to enjoy and remember. It is difficult to have every thought of you hurt. Especially because in reality you always brought joy wherever you went.

I know that this life isn't the end. I know we have trials to learn from them and that is sincerely what I am trying to do. I know you are okay. I think you miss your girls, your husband, your family and friends, but I know you. I know your perspective is great. It was that way when you were here and I am certain it has broadened even more. I miss you. I love you!

Love, Lar