Saying Good-Bye

I knew both of my grandfathers were dying. I just didn't know they'd do it at the same time.

One day apart, actually. But that is pretty darn close. Grandpa was the first. He's been sick for awhile now with cancer. All over his body. He was old, and the cancer was in every organ and system in his body, so he decided not to do chemotherapy because it wouldn't have done any good. He chose to spend the end of his life at home with his family. It was difficult to watch the disease progress. I mean, not counting the five years or so I was in Utah, I've been living in the same house as the man since I was three years old. He was always there. So it was difficult for us to see him get weaker and weaker, and it was difficult for him being in so much pain and not being able to do the things he used to do. But for whatever reason, going through this was something that the Lord wanted him to do, to learn from, and likewise, being observers of this ordeal was something the Lord wanted the rest of us to do. We may not understand right now, but He has some specific reasons for us to go through these trials, and we no that He won't give us anything we can't handle. But for the last few weeks Grandpa was really bad, and mostly just slept. He didn't eat, didn't talk. Sometimes I'd sit in his room while he slept. He couldn't be left alone. I would often peek in there on my way to and from the bathroom in the morning to see how he was. Yesterday when I went by he was really terrible, his breathing really labored. We'd been expecting him to pass on for a few days previously, and I felt like this would probably be it. So I went to work, and a few hours later he did pass away. My mom called me at work a little after that and they let me go home early. I wanted to be able to see him one last time because he had wanted to be cremated, which meant that once the funeral home people came to take him away we wouldn't see him again. So I went home and went up to his room. We had some private family time, and my parents, grandmother, and aunt dressed him in white clothing. I felt I'd rather watch them do it, but I did participate by buttoning his shirt and putting his white shoes on him. Then later in the evening the funeral home people came and took him away.

I was having a difficult time. Like I said, I'd lived with the man pretty much since I was three. It would be so weird knowing that he wasn't there anymore. I went to bed and felt sad, although not what you would call grief-stricken. I shed some tears, and I prayed that I would feel comforted. After all, I knew where he was, and I had a good idea of what he was doing at that very moment. But it was hard knowing that I wouldn't see him again in this life. So that's what I prayed for--comfort. The ability to feel okay and happy. And then I went to sleep.

And this morning, when I woke up, I wasn't sad anymore. I'm sure it will come and go. But I really didn't feel sad. I felt happy. Grandpa was happy and not suffering and doing the Lord's work. I was okay. The Lord very literally answered my prayer. I went to work in a pretty good mood, so amazed that the Lord had answered my prayer so literally and personally.

So I was working as a cashier today, and I looked up and saw my dad walk into the store. I thought this was weird, because I work at a Walmart in a different town from where I live, so my family doesn't shop there ever. He and my brother Justin came up to me and my dad asked if I was taking a break then. I said I'd be taking a break in a little while, and he said I really needed to take a break then. I looked at him and knew, and I said, "Why--did Bop die?" (Bop is what my siblings and I always called my grandfather in Idaho, for some strange reason which I still don't fully understand. It was just our silly little nickname for him.) He said yes, that Uncle Bill had called him just a little while before to tell him that their father had passed away.

Bop had been sick for a really long time, even longer than Grandpa. For several years. He just had a lot of medical problems that all combined to make him more and more feeble, and he also was suffering from Alzheimer's. I think he still knew who the people around him every day were, but he was really confused a lot. My grandmother died a year ago, and he got worse after that. The Alzheimer's prevented him from grieving properly, and he became bedridden and fatigued. Pretty much since my grandmother passed away last June, we've been expecting him to go at any time. We were surprised that he hung on as long as he did, at least I was. So I wasn't surprised to find out that he died, although I was surprised that it happened the day after my other grandfather died.

And you know what? I didn't really feel pain or sadness. The Lord had given me the comfort and the good feelings that I had asked for, and He still was. I was okay with this. Like with Grandpa, I knew where Bop was and had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. So I had to explain to my managers that I would need some time off, for Grandpa's memorial service and also to go to Idaho for Bop's funeral. And I think they all thought I was crazy or something because here I was, telling them that my grandpas had both just died, one yesterday and one today, and yet I wasn't distraught or crying. I was calm, happy.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sad that I won't see them again for many years. But they both lived good, full lives, and they had more work that they needed to do that they couldn't do in the bodies they had. I guess I should warn you, I'm going to get preachy here. I normally try not to do that because I respect that other people have different ideas, thoughts, and opinions as me and hold to different belief systems. But there is a reason I feel happy today and don't really feel any pain or grief, why I am alright. And I'm going to tell you what it is. If you don't feel comfortable reading these things or would prefer not to for whatever reason, I completely understand. You can just skip to where I officially end the preaching. Although I would wish that everyone would at least consider what I have to say in the hopes that it might help them in some way someday.

I believe that God has laid out a specific way He wants his children to live their lives so that they might be happy and return to live with Him again someday. He has laid out his plan in the Holy Scriptures through His prophets, and since He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, He still speaks to us through prophets today. If we live true to these principles and teachings, we will reap the greater blessings. One of these blessings is called eternal marriage. God has said that the man should not live without the woman, neither the woman without the man, and that they should be united in marriage and raise families, to multiply and replenish the earth. But His plan also involved death--something that is difficult but also necessary for our progression. He did not want husbands and wives and children to be separated after they died, so He provided a way that they could be together forever. You may notice that in most modern wedding ceremonies, the couple makes their vows to eachother with the stipulation of "'Til death do you part" or "As long as you both shall live." I really believe that this is not the Lord's way. If the Lord wanted us to be united in so much love to one another, why would he take that away from us when we die? What would be the point of those feelings we had learned and cultivated? So He provided us with the ordinance of eternal marriage. Not 'til death do you part or as long as you both shall live, but forever. After you die, you can be with your spouse and children and parents and siblings again, for all generations. The hearts of the fathers will be turned to the children, and the hearts of the children will be turned to their fathers.

But we have to live worthy, righteous lives in order to attain this. Eternal life is a gift; everyone will be resurrected and receive it, regardless of how righteously they lived. But in order to gain exaltation and live with your own family again, you have to live the way God wants you to live, not the way the world tells you is acceptable. And if you are worthy of this, you can be married in a holy temple of God for time and all eternity. If you do this, not only is this marriage valid as long as you remain true to it on this earth, but it will also exist after we die. And any children who are born to you will be born into that covenant and be yours for eternity. How comforting that must be to parents who have lost a child, to know that they will be able to have them and raise them in the eternities!

My paternal grandparents, Moyle and Betty, were raised in families where they had this knowledge. When they were married in Idaho, the nearest LDS temple they could go at the time to was in Salt Lake City, which they could not afford to do. So they were married civilly at their church, and a few months later were able to go to the temple and be sealed together as husband and wife for all eternity. When children were born to them, those children were automatically sealed to them as well, and when they decided to open their hearts and homes to more children who were without parents by adopting, they took those children to the temple and had those children sealed to them. My dad was born into the covenant of their marriage and is therefore sealed to them.

My maternal grandparents, Ted and Carol, did not always know these truths. They were good Christians and lived good lives, but it wasn't until my mother was nineteen years old that their family finally learned the complete fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ and what it could do for them if they embraced it. They were baptized, and later were able to go to the temple and have their marriage sealed for time and all eternity. My mother and aunt also embraced this truth and were sealed to them. And when my parents got married, they decided they wanted this blessing for themselves as well, so they were married in a temple of God, and my siblings and I were born into this covenant. Which means that we will be with them, and their parents, forever.

But what about people who died without ever having an opportunity to hear the gospel, let alone decide for themselves whether or not it was true? God has provided a way, through holy temple ordinances that date back to biblical times, for these people to also learn the truth and have an opportunity to decide whether or not to embrace it after they die. And we on earth can perform those ordinances for them in the temple. This is so wonderful to me! I mean, what happens to the person who is born in some part of the world, in a time and place where they never even hear the name of Jesus Christ and thus never even have an opportunity to know Him? How could a loving God banish these people to hell for the eternities? They will have the chance to learn and embrace these truths. But I count myself lucky to be one of the number who have learned and embraced these truths on earth. I know that Grandpa is with his earthly parents right now, because he went to the temple and had the ordinances done for them so that, if they chose to embrace the gospel in the eternities (which I think they did), they can be with him. He is with his grandparents, too, and other family members who have passed on. I know that's where he is, and he's greeting them. And I know that the Lord has an important work for him to do, and it won't be long before he is out there teaching those spirits who didn't have the chance to know the gospel on earth. And I know that Bop is with his beloved wife, and with his parents, and grandparents, and even his children and grandchildren who have passed on. They are having a wonderful reunion right now, and the angels in heaven will soon be buckling down with their singing under his tutelage. And this is why I am not in pain, or grief-stricken. I know where they are and what they are doing, and that it is all a part of God's plan, and that someday, I too will experience that.

*END OF PREACHING*

Well, what else can I say? Actually, I think the Muppets said it better. Yes, that's right, the Muppets. In my favorite Muppet movie, the whole Muppet gang sings this great song called "Saying Good-Bye," which I think sums up how I feel and how we all feel in these situations. Even though the song has nothing to do with death in the context of the movie, I still think it is applicable, and so I'd like to quote it here:


Saying goodbye, going away,
Seems like goodbye's such a hard thing to say.
Touching our hands, wondering why,
It's time for saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye, why is it sad?
Makes us remember the good times we've had.
Much more to say, foolish to try,
It's time for saying goodbye.

Don't want to leave, but we both know
Sometimes its better to go.

Somehow I know, we'll meet again,
Not sure quite where and I don't know just when.

You're in my heart, so until then
It's time for saying goodbye.

Somehow I know we'll meet again,
Not sure quite where and I don't know just when.
You're in my heart so until then--
Wanna smile,
Wanna cry,
Saying goodbye.


You know, today I couldn't help but wonder if Grandpa and Bop have happened to bump into each other in heaven. They didn't really know each other, although they had met before, and I can imagine them seing each other and being like, "Hey, wait a minute, is that....it is! Hey! You died? Me too! When did that happen? Really?? That's so crazy, I died the day after! Oh, what are those poor fools down there going to do trying to plan all this and deal with it? They must really be freaking out!" Okay, so maybe it won't go exactly like that, but it's fun to think about.

And so I just want to say in closing, I am okay. I'm secure in my knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ and what that means for myself and my family members, and the Lord has answered my prayers and given me this knowledge and comfort. My prayer now is that all of you may also feel that comfort in your lives when you need it most. Adieu.

Taking Back the Word "Spinster"

First of all, I have to apologize. I originally declared that I would let no more than seven days go by without posting on here, but alas, it has been more than a week. My exuse is that when I reached that seven-day mark our internet wasn't working, and after a day or two when it was finally working again I realized that I didn't really have anything constructive to say. So I figured, I'm already late on posting, so I'll just keep being late until I actually have something to say.

And I do have something to say today. Nothing profound, or deep, or even depressive. And there will be no literary comparisons today. But here's what I want to say:

I want to take back the word "spinster." Or maybe just redefine it. Being a spinster is considered a negative thing in today's society. I'm sure you've all played the card game "Old Maid" before--where the object is to make matches and pairs of all your cards, but if you end up with the ugly and unwanted Old Maid, who does not have a match, you lose. That says a lot right there. Or the fact that when you make yourself a bag of popcorn the kernels that are useless, that can't "pop," are referred to as "old maids." Well I looked up the word "spinster" on wikipedia, and the truth is, it has never been a positive word. The article began by talking about the original social stigma of being a spinster, and I quote: "...most stereotypes of spinsters are hostile. Other reputations are ugliness, frumpiness, depression, astringent moral virtue, and overly pious religious devotion. Spinsters have traditionally been accused of being overly fussy, of setting their standards too high — to the point of being unable to find a mate they are willing to accept."

Yikes.

The article then goes on to note the "improved status" of the term "spinster." And just how have spinsters improved? By becoming sexually liberated--they can have sex with whomever they want without being socially ostracized, they can pop out as many children as they like without a spouse, and they can do all this while still being hip and fashionable. Like the characters on the show Sex and the City (which I will admit to having watched about two times, and was not impressed at all). In fact, spinsters are expected to do these things. If they don't, there is something wrong with them.

Yikes again.

So either a spinster has to be an ugly, dowdy, strict, sexually repressed religious zealot, or she has to be hip, following all the latest fashions and trends, and definitely sexually active. I don't agree with or follow either of those descriptions, which is why I want to take back the word and redefine it. Why can't a girl be nice and normal, but not have sex and not have children out of wedlock? Why can't a spinster be a happy, successful woman who has complete control of her own body and does not rely on sexuality to make her feel accepted and normal?

Now I know a lot of people will not agree with me on this, and that's fine. I know my lifestyle, the LDS lifestyle, seems too strict for a lot of people. I'm not judging anyone else on how they choose to live their lives. I figure if they are doing whatever they do legally and responsibly (in all the senses of that word), it's not my place to say anything about it. I'm just saying that this is how I'm living my life, and the world shouldn't look on me negatively for it. What's wrong with being a virgin (which, by the way, is not and should not be considered a dirty word), or believing that children deserve to be raised by a mother and a father who love each other and are committed to each other through marriage? If that's what a spinster is, I don't mind being one.

Well in the end all of that is irrelevant. No matter what the reasons or circumstances, it is still apparently a negative thing to be a spinster. According to wikpedia, "...whatever their orientation, most unmarried, unpartnered feminists did not, and still do not, routinely identify as spinsters, preferring more common, and less freighted, terms such as 'single woman' or 'unmarried woman.'"

Blech, too many syllables. Spinster is just easier to say. And type. Why should I have to define myself as "single" or "unmarried?" That's why I want to take back the word "spinster." I am a spinster. I'm embracing it. I'm proud of it. There's no shame in it. There's no longer a negative stigma. I can do what I want, and it's okay. No one should judge me. I'm a Sweet Spinster (which, for anyone who didn't know, is a play-on-words with the term "sweet sister" that pops up in Mormon culture which also has a negative connotation and which I will blog about some other time for the benefit of those who have never heard the term before). So yes, I am a spinster, I'm going to be proud of it, and I'm not going to care what other people think.

That being said, I will still never own a cat.

The Seven Freeway Fence Posts

So some people may remember that back in December I wrecked my car on the freeway while trying to drive to work during a snowstorm (black ice sucks). In addition to ruining all the metal on the left side of the vehicle (you can see the pictures on facebook), I also sort of took out the cable guardrail in the freeway median (basically I bent over/flattened some metal fence posts). I figured that, considering how many billions of dollars the state of Minnesota is in debt, I'd have to cover the cost of those metal posts (even though it was not my fault that I hit them). The cop told me that even though no other vehicles were involved and there were no injuries, he'd have to file a report because I caused "damage to state property." I figured it would cost probably a couple hundred dollars, and I waited for that bill to come for weeks. And then months. And then I figured that since they never sent a bill or police report or anything, I must have been wrong about having to pay for it. And being pretty tight up for money, it was a load off my mind!

So here we are, nearly six months after the accident, and today my aunt gets an envelope in the mail from the Minnesota Department of Transportation, and she thought that they sure did send the new tags for her car quickly. Then she opened it. And there were no tags. Instead, there was a bill for $696.78. And she was understandably shocked. Since the car I drove at the time actually was her old car, the bill came to her instead of me.

But the charges are ridiculous! Over double what I was originally expecting I'd have to pay! And the charges on the invoice are ridiculous:

1 ton dump truck 52 mi @ 1.64/mi=$85.22
1 1/2 to 3 ton special truck 7 mi @ 3.88/mi=$27.19
2 1/2 to 3 ton dump truck 0.50 hr=$32.15
changeable message board 0.50 hr=$0.46
locating pegs 36 @1.12 ea=$40.22
post cap 1=$3.13
line post socketed 7 @ $54.74 ea=$40.22
6 transp. maint wkrs 3 hrs @ 41.74/hr=$125.23

Okay, seriously! Isn't the state already paying its road maintenance workers to be at work? Why should I have to pay their salaries when they already work for and are paid by the state? My taxes are already paying their regular salaries! And what's up with driving out a couple of dump trucks? I've seen them fixing those freeway median posts before (people knock them over all the time, even when there's no ice on the road), and there is no dumping of anything whatsoever. They take a metal post and pound it into the ground. Okay, I guess they need some sort of truck to transport the posts and tools, but that certainly doesn't involve driving a special dump truck fifty-two miles.

And here's the other thing that annoys me. I wasn't kidding when I said people take out those fence posts every day. I drive on the freeway back and forth between Faribault and Owatonna every day I go to work, and I drive on the freeway back and forth between Faribault and Lakeville once a week when I go to church. And at LEAST once a week I drive past a newly-destroyed section of median fence. All the time. They build them right up next to the road, and there are constantly new skid marks pointing straight towards flattened fence posts magically appearing. But the state doesn't fix them right away. They wait and every few months they go through and patch up all the bare spots on the cable guardrail. (If I remember correctly my wreck spot was fixed sometime in February or possibly March.) Which means they don't drive a dump truck fifty-two miles to fix one spot. They drive a dump truck maybe one mile to fix one spot, and then another mile or two to fix the next spot, and then a mile or two to fix the next one, and so on. I happen to know that there were at least like six other wreck spots between Faribault and Owatonna that were fixed the same day as mine. Yet apparently every single person who takes out any posts has to pay for all the mileage of the truck. That irks me.

You know, every few weeks a wreck spot will appear that is really huge. Not like mine, where seven posts were bent over but still attached to both the cables and the ground. In these big ones there will be like twenty or thirty posts that are completely knocked out of the ground and torn away from the cables, and the grass in the whole area is all torn up. I really feel bad for those people. I'm not really sure how anyone manages to do that much damage--I figure maybe semi trucks barrel through them or something. But seriously. Those people must have to pay like thousands of dollars. The state probably even charges them for the grass.

So anyways, this bill that arrived today, for an accident that occurred on December 20, 2008, was sent on 06/02/09, and is due on 07/02/09. I do not have the money to pay it. My aunt is currently unemployed, so she does not have the money to pay it. I think she's going to send the bill to the insurance company, but we're sure they won't pay any because apparently since the car was so old and crappy to begin with it only had the bare minimum insurance--so it would have been covered if someone else had hit me. (And it had towing insurance, which for some strange reason did not cover the cost of towing the car back to town.) But I'm screwed for money now. It took me like a year to save up enough money to buy my laptop (which was only slightly more than $600). And I know I'm also waiting for the doctor bills I've accrued due to having strep throat for the past three weeks and having to go to the doctor not once but TWICE because the penicillin didn't kill it. And even though my new health insurance did start up three days before I first went to the doctor (Walmart gives health insurance to its part-time employees after they've worked there for a year), the only way I could afford the premiums that would be taken out of every paycheck, I had to choose a plan that had a higher deductible, so I know I will be paying all these medical bills out of my own pocket. So it'll be about a million more years before I have enough money to start taking classes of any kind (which is why I bought the laptop).

Hey, I know. I should send an invoice to the state for the damage that their median fence caused to my car (well technically, my aunt's car). After all, I would not have collided with it had they been more vigilant about de-icing the roadway, right? Heck, I was only going fifty at best when I went off. And by the time we finally left that day two other cars had gone off within half a mile of there, one going the opposite direction and the other at the exact same spot I went off, except that car slid to the right instead of to the left, so I guess all they had to pay for was a tow truck to pull them out of the ditch. Too bad they didn't go to the left, because maybe then they would have hit my car and we would have gotten some money from the insurance. Yeah, I think sending the state an invoice would be cool.

Somehow I don't think Minnesota would be very amused. Or willing to pay. Maybe I should write my senator. Oh, wait, Minnesota STILL hasn't seated theirs yet!

An Explanation (And Another Literary Comparison)

I feel right now that I need to offer a note of explanation. You see, a lot of people are reading my blog and getting the idea that I am bitter because I am twenty-four years old and not married. While it may seem that that is the case, I need to explain right now that that is not true. I have no problem being single. It's something else that bothers me. But how do I explain it?

Ah! This is where the literary comparison comes in. Last time I compared myself with the character of Mary Bennett, who was created by Jane Austen. This time I will compare myself to a literary character named Valancy Stirling, who was created by one of my favorite authors--Lucy Maud Montgomery, who also created the character Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables). Valancy Stirling is the main character of one of Montgomery's lesser-known books, The Blue Castle. It takes place in a small town called Deerwood in 1920s Canada. The book starts out on the morning of Valancy's twenty-ninth birthday, and she wakes up feeling what I myself am often feeling. How should I put this? Well, I probably can't put it any better than Montgomery already did, so I'll just quote directly from the book:

"Valancy wakened early, in the lifeless, hopeless hour just preceding dawn. She had not slept very well. One does not sleep well, sometimes, when one is twenty-nine on the morrow, and unmarried, in a community and connection where the unmarried are simply those who have failed to get a man.

"Deerwood and the Stirlings had long since relegated Valancy to hopeless old maidenhood. But Valancy herself had never quite relinquished a certain pitiful, shamed, little hope that Romance would come her way yet--never, until this wet, horrible morning, when she wakened to the fact that she was twenty-nine and unsought by any man.

"Ay, THERE lay the sting. Valancy did not mind so much being an old maid. After all, she thought, being an old maid couldn't possibly be as dreadful as being married to an Uncle Wellington or an Uncle Benjamin, or even an Uncle Herbert. What hurt her was that she had never had a chance to be anything but an old maid. No man had ever desired her."

And that is where I feel the sting. I don't mind so much being single--I'd much rather be single than be stuck in a marriage like a lot of the ones I see young people in. No, that's not what bothers me at all. There are tons of single people my age--in fact, more people my age are single than married. No, what bothers me is that, like Valancy, I've never even had a single opportunity (no pun intended) to be anything else. No man has ever been even remotely interested in me.

And THERE lies the sting. Sure there are plenty of people my age who are single, but the vast majority of them have been in a relationship, or at least had the opportunity to be in a relationship. They have at least had someone who was interested in them on some level. I've never been in a relationship, or even had the possibility of one. And that hurts.

And it's something that no one can understand unless they have lived it. And to be honest, I've never personally been acquainted with someone my age in this circumstance (except for people who had, how can I say this politely, slight mental disabilities). In fact, my friends and roommates have always said things like, "Well, you should actually be glad, because boys are just trouble anyways," or, "Well, I would actually like to be in your position since you've never had to break up with someone." Oh, you poor, poor, simple fools. My best response to this is a cliche: "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." How true that is. I would gladly go through the experience of a terrible breakup, if only because it meant that at one point that other person had cared for me. I mean, even most divorced people say that if they could do the whole thing over again they would because they would want to experience that happiness they had experienced at the beginning of their relationship. Even though they weren't in love anymore, they would go through it again, even the painful breakup, to be able to experience being in love again and having someone be in love with them.

Of course I'm not sitting here bitter because no one's ever been in love with me. That in and of itself doesn't hurt, doesn't really bother me. But it does kind of hurt that no one has ever been in like with me. There lays the sting.

Oh, and on another note of explanation, I feel I should say that writing this blog is rather cathartic for me--that is, it is kind of emotionally soul-purging for me. I write a few of my innermost thoughts, and the depressed feelings that go along with them, and once I get that out of me, I do not feel depressed anymore. I'm not really sure how to explain it. By writing about being depressed, I do not actually FEEL depressed anymore. I'm afraid that people are thinking that I'm just always moping around feeling all depressed because that's kind of the way my writing is, but that's not the case. By writing it all out I can kind of purge it from my soul and be done with it. It's actually very theraputic. I know this doesn't work for everyone, but right now, it's working for me, so I'm going to keep doing it, and I won't apologize for it. And there it is.

Well, what else can I say? Valancy Stirling ended up having a happy ending after many ups and downs, so I'd much rather be a Valancy Stirling than a Mary Bennett. Of course, Valancy is under the impression that she is dying of congenital heart disease for the majority of the book due to a doctor's clerical error, and I definitely don't want to experience that. But still. Valancy created this perfect fantasy world for herself to deal emotionally with being an unwanted, hopelessly single woman living with her mother and aunt. She imagined herself marrying a Prince Charming and living happily ever after with him in a blue castle in Spain (hence the title of the book). And in the end, she ended up getting her Prince Charming and Blue Castle--they just weren't exactly the way she had always imagined them. And maybe that's what will happen to me, too.