This Part of the Journey

The past couple of days
have given me alot to think about--
my mother buried her husband
on Monday,
and because of some wonderful
compassionate
LDS members in Texas,
her burdens were made
lighter.

I am so entirely grateful
to a group of people
I do not even know.
The Gospel
and the people who live it
makes this world
this cold
cold
cruel
crass
world,
a better place
to live in.

It sets a course for my life
and I am never alone in the journey.

And for the record,
you don't have to be a member of
the LDS church to have that kind of impact
on others' lives,
but it just so happens
that this is the Faith
I've chosen to ascribe to
and love.
This is the road I know.

As I was doing some Spring cleaning
this afternoon--
sitting in my room going thru boxes
I have yet to unpack since we moved
in this house July 2008--
the phone rang.
I yelled for someone else to answer it--
because I was on my bum
and certain it wasn't for me anyways
since there are teenagers who eat and breathe
the phone.


But I was wrong,
it was for me.

Hello?

"Hey, Dawn." I hear, though the voice is cracking with emotion.

Mom?  I know that voice even if I haven't heard it in forever.

"I just wanted to call and tell you I'm sorry."

And thus began a long overdue conversation.
Apologies flowed, in between tearful pangs of sorrow.
She expressed her deepest gratitude for
that young Bishop who has come into her life
and offered her hope and peace in her darkest hour.
"I'm going to Church on Sunday, Dawn.
I'm gonna try this again.
I just...feel it's time.
And Bishop M. is going to help me."

More tears.

I feel a lump in my throat. My own eyes fill.
Is this real?
I wonder.

"And your brother is going with me. He's changed too."

Really?  That brother?  The one who calls me a fool for being LDS?  He's going too?

All I can say is, "Wow." at first.
Then I offer, "The Gospel can be as great a blessing in your life, as you allow it to be, Mom."

I apologize for my previous anger.
She says, "You don't owe me an apology."
I do, I tell her.  It'll make me feel better to apologize.

"I'm sorry I wasn't my better self when you emailed." I tell her.

"It hurts when your own parents and family say you're going to hell for going to a
church that's different from theirs.
All that rejection...hurts."

More apologies.

Mom says she sees things--
sees the LDS Church
differently now.

I feel the difference in her voice.
The voice of a widow.
A humble, quiet voice.
I hear everything she's saying
and a thousand things
she's not.

This part of my journey has taken a turn I hadn't expected.


Excuse me while I write a letter to that wonderful Bishop in Texas.
And offer a prayer of gratitude.  I have much to be thankful for.
so much.