This wonderful family that we knew in Maryland came to visit. They are lovely and it was lovely and I am really glad they came. Their cute mama is from the Philippines, and talking to her was so fun for me. I tried to remember everything I had learned about the Philippines and relate to her the things I remembered that Josh liked and he had shown me. He always had and I'm sure still has an enormous love for Filipinos, and I have grown to love them too.
She shared experiences with me that gave me immense hope that Logan will feel his dad with him his whole life.
She also brought with her some jackfruit, which comes from the Philippines. I had never heard of it, and never tried it. And I didn't know if Josh had ever tried it, or if he had, whether or not he liked it. And that infuriated me. Not because I didn't know, but because I couldn't know. It's such a simple thing, but I will never, in this lifetime, be able to ask him if he likes jackfruit. I will just never know. I would guess that he has tried it. But I don't know how he felt about it, and I just won't know for certain.
In this modern age of technology with the smart phones and the Facebooks, I can contact pretty much anyone I want from around the globe. It is increasingly frustrating to me that Angelbook is not a thing. I do believe that I will always feel his influence in some way or another in my life, and so will Logan, and many people point that out, and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but IT IS NOT THE SAME.
It's not really about the fruit in the end. That was just the tipping point. In reality, it's about the every day things I wonder about that are bigger than that. Does he feel like I'm being a good mom to our son? When he gets older, will he approve of the way I try to raise him. I was always looking forward to his input as a parent, and now I'm terrified I'm going to mess it up on my own.
SO here's another thing. See how I just smoothly switched topics all sneaky-like?
I have been very lucky in that nobody has ever told me "Everything happens for a reason." At least nobody that I remember. Maybe I just blocked it out. Because it's not an incredibly helpful thing to say. It doesn't make you go, "Oh okay, in that case everything's fine LA DEE DAAAAA." And then you merrily skip away, obviously. No, no it doesn't do that. For the most part it just makes you angry. Because what is it? What is the reason? If you can't tell me that, then don't even start.
HOWEVER. Many people in my life have vehemently held by the opposite opinion that things don't really happen for a reason. And I don't really get that either. I wish I could say I even understood what it means, although at times I have felt a little better about it than its alternative. But it doesn't actually make sense to me, and it's not really something that I accept.
Despite the fact that I don't ever want anybody to point it out to me, I have to believe that everything does happen for a reason. Maybe not everything. Maybe not the tiny little things, and I mean, we have agency on this earth, so we can choose to do things and it doesn't mean there is a grand, eternal reason behind them ...
Moving on.
The BIG things happen for a reason. That's what I believe is true. That's what I have to believe.
If there isn't a reason for Josh dying, then he didn't need to die. And yes, I also have to believe that he needed to die. I believe that if I can't sit around with him and ask him whether he has tried jackfruit, or what to do when Logan lies to me, it's because he had something important to do. (Not more important. Just important.) Otherwise, what's even the point? Why would a healthy, 24-year-old who literally just became a father, be needed so badly on the other side? I don't know. I will never know. But in order for me to make any sense of it, I have to know that he was needed. I have to know in my heart that there was a reason, or the earth is just a colossal waste of time.
And it's not a colossal waste of time.
Thank you for listening, have a picture of my son playing with bath bubbles.
You inspire me. Maybe that is a lame thing to say but it all that I have. I believe that Josh would have chosen every time to right there with you. He was called to do something else that must be important. It still hurts to think he is gone and that you and Logan are without him. Love is eternal and love also hurts. There will always be a prayer in my heart for you and Logan and Josh.
ReplyDeleteI like your take on grief. I felt like I should tell you somehow. It seems optimistic yet still realistic which I think is a hard thing to portray and even harder to feel.
ReplyDeleteSometimes when stuff sucks my friends or family are like, "but look on the bright side!" and all I can think is, "yea but stuff still sucks even with a bright side." Sometimes I wish people would just acknowledge that sometimes life blows and it will continue to be anger inducing for awhile. And then one day it will get better and then another day it will suck again but eventually it will gradually improve bit by bit. That seems real to me.
I mention this because I think you are good at it. Pointing out the suckiness of your situation but still being positive that somehow you will figure it out and endure that suckiness until things get better.
It's incredibly inspiring. Keep writing these posts because they seriously are helpful to me and I'm sure a gagillion other people. I leave feeling hopeful and uplifted every time I read one. And dang Logan is a cutie.
I agree with your title and points. I know the kind of people that think they can whitewash away all pain and problems in a flash, but the truth is that will never happen for anything of true value. life sucks sometimes and Its good to see someone in touch with reality while pushing on. look forward to seeing you and Logan as our FHE group starts up again with school.
ReplyDelete-Caleb & Michelle
I love this post . What a perfect expression. Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteSo I know you posted this a few months ago, but I couldn't help but to comment. I am a complete stranger that just read through a few of your blog posts, and was really moved my your words. My dad's parents both died when he was a young adult, leaving his younger siblings as orphans (the youngest was 6). At the time everyone questioned why this would happen to such a beautiful, righteous family. And at the time, it seemed like the trial would ruin the kids for life, as they bounced between different homes without the unconditional love of their own parents. However, looking back on things now, I can't help but believe that things happened that way for a reason. I don't know what reasons there might have been on the other side, but I feel like I can see reasons here on earth. My dad and his siblings all turned out beautifully and two of his brothers have even served as bishops. Trials make us stronger. I am elbow deep in my own hardest trial (though it is nothing compared to yours), and I really feel like I have made leaps and bounds in my spiritual, emotional, and mental growth. As I have read your blog posts I have been blown away by your perspective and loving attitude. The things that my trial has taught me are small in comparison, and I feel like I need to save some of your words and come back to them when I have a better capacity to grasp your loving attitude and non judgmental perspective. Personally, I feel like it is our personal growth here on earth that Heavenly Father really cares about, and it is the reason he gives us trials. I 100% believe that he only wants to give us what we want, but that he doesn't give in and instead allows hard things to happen because he loves us and wants us to grow to our full potential.
ReplyDeleteI don't mean to tell you that Josh did or didn't die for a reason, but I wanted to let you know that if you ever wish that something good had come out of this awful thing, you can always reflect on how much you have grown. I don't know you personally, but I can tell that you, like myself in my own trial, have grown. Thank you for inspiring me with your experiences, and helping all of us to grow in a small way from your impossibly difficult trial. You rock.