The Program

This week an event occurred that made me think. It wasn't anything that would seem extraordinary. Indeed it is an occurance that happens annually at elementary schools everywhere. My youngest daughter had her first grade year end program.
She performed beautifully and shared her grin with all the world. The hand movements and little dances matched the joy of the songs as the seasons were each reviewed and celebrated.

My daughter has had one thing on her mind since she brought home the flier announcing the event. She wanted to make sure all of her loved ones could attend. Phone calls were made to grandparents and the flier found its way onto the fridge.
For the next couple of weeks it was made known to us that we had an appointment on Tuesday the 24th. The morning that I left for work it was emphasized again as she said "Dad, you can't forget, you've got to come to my program today." I
reassured her that I would be there and went on with my day. Later that day I attended her program. Amanda later called and told me how special my little princess felt because of those in attendance.I felt very loved myself as Gracelyn emphasized
that fact that daddy came. Amanda would later say to me as we visited about this that we probably underestimate how much our "simple" efforts mean.

I began to think as I pondered the following. "What if I had not attended? What would she have felt like that day? What effect would that feeling have had?" As I thought about this my little Bennett came to mind. I thought that he is not that
different from my daughter. His greatest desire is for me, and the rest of his family, to attend an important event that I know he is anticipating with great excitement. An event that I know he thinks about and is preparing for. An event that
makes him smile as he imagines its occurance. An event that won't have the same feeling if all of the one's he loves are not present. It is the time when we will all be together again.

I definately anticipated Gracelyn's performance and I was constantly grinning as I watched her. How could I not? She is the cutest 6 year old in the world. I guess every parent grins like me at these type of events. Likewise I look forward to the same event Bennett does. He has made it back to his Father in
Heaven and is receiving all that He has to give. I want to receive the same. I can imagine Bennett doing the same thing that Gracelyn did as her special event approached. She couldn't remind us enough and I know that the same desire of having
us present at the appointed time is what Bennet wants. I'm not here to tell you that I have heard an audible cheer from him or that I have seen something that lets me know he is doing this. I don't need that. I have felt on numerous occasions the
reassurance that my boy lives, that my Heavenly Father is in charge, and families can be together forever. I am here to tell you that I know that just like I was going to do everything in my power to get to Gracelyn's program, I will do everything in my power to get myself and everyone in my family to an event at which I will grin the biggest grin I have ever grinned. The Reunion. The reunion in which we are all present to participate in our "family cheer." Where like Paul I will be able to report "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith" (2 Tim. 4:7).

I will not miss the scheduled program.

Infection

Well I'm back. Sorry for the absence.This is a little long but I wanted to try and express something that was hard to keep short.

Last week, there were two nights in a row that I visited the local Instacare with seperate girls. The doctor confirmed in both instances that we have been infected. It was an infection that I wish we could have avoided. I was hopeful that we would not threepeat by making a visit with Ashton. However we learned at his regular checkup Monday that he too is infected. The infection is strep. I'm sure you can relate to wa

nting to avoid it.

But I want to discuss a different type of infection. An infection with much power. It spreads rapidly and once it is felt, its power overtakes you. We are exposed to it before we even know that it hits and repeated exposure increases its hold on us. Once exposed, your life is never the same and the influence it has will not easily be shaken.

Each May we celebrated this "infection." It is the love of a Mother. I have a mother that did all she knew how to show that love to me. I have the privilege of seeing this love manifest in so many dimensions and have gained an even greater understanding of it by watching my sweet wife. I think a great description of this infection and its continual effect is illustrated in this quote. I shared it with my wife as she was writing a guest blog about being

a mother. You can read it there in a beautiful message from her but I wanted to share it again. Anna Quindlen said:

If we stop to think about what we do, really do, we are building for centuries. We are building character, and tradition, and values, which meander like a river into the distance and out of our sight, but on and on and on.

And what is it that sets the first foundation stone for those centuries? It is the love of a mother. The love that is welled up as a baby is formed and to her is personified as she holds a child in her arms where it feels so safe and a warmth that is akin to the heaven it just left.

As we walked through beautiful gardens of tulips at a festival at Thanksgiving Point, I was pondering about this divine love. We often give flowers on special occasions to mothers. Have you ever wondered why? I'm practical. Maybe too practical. Flowers only last a week or two if you are really lucky and then they're gone. Well, pondering about why we give flowers to

women - and in particular to mothers - has new meaning to me now. As I walked among the tulips, I marveled at their beauty and then began to think of what it takes to get that beauty to appear. I won't bore you with the details of botany but think of what life stages there are for a flower. A seed or bulb is planted and nutured in Mother Earth. Germination begins and it

grows in the earth until it is ready to emerge. After it emerges, it has not reached its potential and will not reach its if it is plucked from the earth prematurely. As it continues to grow, it gets taller and a bud appears. We have all seen the beauty of these stages. Y

et the flower has still not reached its full potential. Finally there is a bloom. It is the bloom that we all eagerly await. But the bloom is not the end. When a flower blooms it is able to pollinate and spread its beauty. When it is finally removed from the earth, it is not finished spreading its beauty. If you've got flowers in a vase, you know what I mean.

Anyway, maybe you can see some of the parallels that I did. Very literally the flower is dependent on Mother Earth to obtain its full potential. To reach its full potential, it must spread itself out and pollinate. In reaching its full potential, it will influence many seasons to come.

A flower that hasn't yet reached its full potential left the arms of its mother. But It will return. One of the most difficult things I have faced through our experience is watching, holding, and weeping with Bennett's Mother and my Sweetheart. She does all she can to spread the infection of the love that only a mother can give to her children. She gave it and received it back in abundance from Bennett. But the flower was plucked prematurely. That premature loss had no explanation and the hurt is deep and lingering. Try as I might, I have no way to take away the pain.

Here is a quote that Amanda and I have found a lot of comfort in. We believe that it teaches the truth. It was stated in 1918 by Joseph F. Smith:

In 1854, I met with my aunt [Agnes Smith], the wife of my uncle, Don Carlos Smith, who was the mother of that little girl [Sophronia] that Joseph Smith, the Prophet, was speaking about, when he told the mother that she should have the pleasure, and the satisfaction of rearing that child, after the resurrection, until it reached the full stature of its spirit; and that it would be a far greater joy than she could possibly have in mortality, because she would be free from the sorrow and fear and disabilities of mortal life, and she would know more than she could know in this life.

I met that widow, the mother of that child, and she told me this circumstance and bore testimony to me that this was what the Prophet Joseph Smith said when he was speaking at the funeral of her little daughter.

Amanda and I will have the joy and Bennett the blessing of being infected by his mother's love again. Very literally she will infect with that love again in nuturing Bennett on the path of reaching his full potential. His life has already blessed many and I know it is still blessing many in a work that I can't see but know is very real. With the new instances of infection that I know will occur with him at a day that will come none to soon, I know that Bennett will reach his full potential.

I will never look at flowers the same again.

And - by the way - our children are all recovering with the help of medicine and because a more powerful infection doesn't allow room for the strep.

I think you know what what I'm talking about.

Thanks Amanda for your infectious love. And thanks to all you Mothers. Keep on spreading.

Time For Me

Well, I hope you are enjoying “Father Feature.” It is interesting to think about what I might share and to put thoughts and feelings in writing knowing that anyone in the world might read them. Today I thought I would share something very personal in the hopes that it might help someone learn from my experience in a way that might make an immediate difference in actions that will occur today, tomorrow, and forever. This experience has done that for me and continues to remind me each day of ways that I can change.

The night of January 21, 2011 seemed like any other night for our family. I had been playing with the kids earlier and Bennett was taken to bed by mom. Later it was my turn and I did my usual routine that involved getting Ashton settled. This night he needed a diaper change. I did it in his bedroom on his bed because it was convenient. I tried really hard not to disturb Bennett. He was sleeping in his crib in the same room. I had been working on a presentation I was scheduled to give the following Sunday. I had been collecting notes and I was anxious to get back to it. Well, I finished changing Ashton and I was not successful at leaving Bennett undisturbed. Ashton wasn’t exactly quiet and Bennett sat up and looked over at us in a half sleep half awake mode as I tried to get Ashton to fall asleep. It only lasted a few seconds and I remember thinking, “Please go back to sleep Bennett.” He lay back down and did just what I had hoped for and I stayed with Ashton for a few more minutes to make sure he was sound asleep before returning to my bed. I don’t really remember anything that occurred after that that night.

How I wish I could change that night. I will forever remember looking over at Bennett that night hoping that I would be able to return to my bed quickly instead of having to pick up Bennett to put him back to sleep. I should have seen and acted upon a moment that I cannot take back in a very different way. If I would have gone over and picked him up or even just shifted him a little to make him more comfortable I would have had some final moments that I would have treasured. Instead I have a regret. It isn’t a small regret. The crib where he slept is now in storage and I will not be laying him down after holding him tight for a very, very long time.

Silently (or maybe not so silently) we may think, if only I had more “time for me.” I thought that was what I needed that night. The interesting thing is that more “time for me” doesn’t exactly have the same meaning as it did before. The best “time for me” is time that I spend dedicated to loved ones. Most particularly I speak of my wife and children. A hug, an act of service, a note written, a kind word spoken, a mealtime, special event, and so forth. I wish I could have more “time for me” with Bennett. I missed some of that in the last moments of his life. The next time I held him, he was lifeless. I am trying to remember each and every moment the “time for me” lesson. I don’t ever want to create a regret like this again. I want to give time where its effects will be most valuable and where the impact will be the most lasting.

I promised that I would share something very personal in the hopes that it might help someone learn from my experience in a way that might make an immediate difference in actions that will occur today, tomorrow and forever. There is a series of commercial spots that I really like. You may have seen them. I think they emphasize a small part of what I am trying to say. This is one that I can relate to (click here). Take some time to view a few, have a laugh and consider what “time for me” means to you.

Tears in Heaven

For those who don't know, this is my sweetheart and better half, David.

David is the epitome of what a husband, father and friend should be - kind, patient, fun loving, long suffering (hello - he's married to me!), charitable, generous of spirit, quick to forgive and wise beyond his years coupled with a deep seeded devotion to God. Indeed, he is my Prince Charming and one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever known. I am blessed to called him my Sweetheart.

As we have walked this path, we have found (like in other areas) that Men and Women grieve differently. Though we are novices on this walk of Profound Grief, I thought it would be helpful to have a male perspective chime in on what is going on in their minds and hearts. While Men may not be as vocal or outwardly emotional as their female counterparts, they are every bit as affected. And I think the emotional support and recognition of grief for Fathers is especially lacking.

We are going to try and do our part to change that and include a seat at our cozy, comfortable kitchen conversation table for all Men and Fathers (affectionately called "Daddies" in our home) who are experiencing Loss and Heartache.

Welcome, Fathers. Welcome.

So - without further adieu - here is the Man of MY heart, David.

Tears are an interesting thing. They are present at the extremes. Have you ever laughed so hard that they fall freely? We "bust a gut" and it can actually hurt! There is a closing scene in the movie "Bucket List" that is a good example of this. Another extreme that brings tears occurs because of weather. You might have experienced it if the sun is too bright or if the wind is blowing and you don't have any glasses or other protection to shield it. Then of course there is crying because of physical pain. We were pushed beyond a "pain threshold" because a nerve was stimulated too much. Sometimes we have this happen by accident such as when we hit our finger with a hammer while pounding a nail. Other times, we may choose to do this for a medical purpose that might save our life. I had this happen when I was operated on to fix the ill effects of a burst appendix. There are so many extremes associated with tears.

I have had the "extreme" bring many tears in the past few months. It hasn't come because of the extremes mentioned previously. These tears have their roots in the gift of love.

I have had a struggle in my life. The struggle involves experiences early in my life. These struggles caused me to hurt and to close my heart in order to avoid hurting again. Well, I have been very blessed by a loving Savior who helped me realize how I had closed my heart and a wonderful wife who continually shows me what it means to love with all of your heart. My sweetheart is one passionate woman and she loves so deeply.

This love makes you vulnerable and it brings the ability to experience the greatest joys in life as well as hurts that are deeper than anything that is purely physical. The two extremes are related. As the ability to love grows deeper, vulnerability increases.

One of my favorite scriptures is found in the New Testament. It simply states "Jesus Wept" (John 11:35). The most powerful and greatest man of all, even God himself, wept. As I said earlier, it is He who has taught and shown me how to "love." In fact, another scripture identifies Him as the the epitome of love, "God is Love"(1 John 4:8,16). He truly understands and has felt all that I have felt and feel (Alma 7:11-12 in the Book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ).

I am a man. Sometimes I get back into the habit of closing my heart because it hurts and guys aren't supposed to cry, right? WRONG!!! Crying is a divine manifestation of the gift of love. My wife has told me that she wants me to be more emotionally authentic with her. In other words, being real with how I am feeling at any given moment. In my opinion, there is nothing more manly that I or any man can do than to serve his sweetheart and share the full spectrum of extremes together.

I used to wonder if there were tears in heaven. Eric Clapton obviously wondered the same thing when he penned a song following the death if his son. It is a beautiful expression of emotion but I must disagree with his line "I know there'll be no more, tears in heaven." I know there is and will be tears in heaven. I will have overwhelming emotion at a reunion my whole family looks forward to. I am certain that the millions of tears that have been shed over the past few months because of the extreme feelings of loss (it. hurts. bad.) will be overwhelmingly exceeded by extreme feelings of joy at that reunion. I am further confident that my Bennett Boy and other loved ones who have gone before us cry with us and reach out in whatever ways they can from heaven. Heaven too has extremes.

I hope I can do my part to always make my home a heaven on earth by allowing myself to feel and express all of the extremes that produce tears. I look forward to experiencing new extremes and allowing myself to cry.

Let the tears flow.