This is a man whom I have grown to love and admire over the 10 years that I have worked with his wife and his daughter. He was a beautiful craftsman building kitchen cabinets and anything else that was needed. Always helping around the office fixing this and that to keep all us women happy.
Now he lay in a hospital bed, his lungs have filled up with fluid, is on oxygen and is unable to speak or move. Weak and tired yet anxious when he hears the voices of his family. They are cautioned not to talk and let him rest. How frustrating for them!
During the day today as I was working he was declining rapidly.
I'm thinking of his loving family tonight as they await his final breath, burning his memory in their minds as they say goodbye.
What is this thing called DEATH?
By President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008)
What is this thing that men call death, This quiet passing in the night? ’Tis not the end, but genesis Of better worlds and greater light.
O God, touch Thou my aching heart, And calm my troubled, haunting fears. Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure, Give strength and peace beyond my tears.
There is no death, but only change With recompense for victory won; The gift of Him who loved all men, The Son of God, the Holy One.
I am grateful for the knowledge that there is a life after death that goes on for the eternities. A life that allows families to be together again. A life that allows us to continue to work on our imperfections. A life where imperfect bodies are made perfect in Him. And with this knowledge comes a drive and ambition to keep my covenants I made at baptism and also in the Temple. To be a good example to all mankind and serve Him all the days of my life.
I will miss this wonderful man.
