A Round-a-bout Way to Get to the Point:

Within a couple of hours after Leah’s birth I had the privilege of holding her in my arms and I was overwhelmed with the bonding I felt with her. It was instantaneous. I was hers to do with as she pleased. I felt fortunate to be able to tend her from the beginning; to watch her growth every day; to be with her for each milestone – smile, tooth, sit up, crawl, talk, walk, kindergarten.

I was not prepared last August when her parents announced they were moving – away! I felt the earth quiver and shake. Surely this couldn’t be happening! Some miracle would occur . . . But no. Within weeks she was gone and I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand the pain. I cried - no sobbed - for weeks. I woke up in the middle of each night sobbing.

The pain is intense seven months later and I’m not sure it will ever go away. I pass by a lost Polly Pocket shoe and still I cry.

I am getting nearer to the point I want to make . . .

This morning was stake conference. Dale couldn’t go with me because he had meetings to attend in the Boise Idaho University Stake. And I was strongly tempted to stay home. I decided I was capable of attending a meeting by myself (good grief!). But I knew what I was afraid of . . . I drove up to the Columbia Village meetinghouse, into the parking lot, got out of the car and started walking toward the front door. I automatically turned around to look, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. No Leah running from her car in her Sunday dress to greet me! No Leah inside the hall saving a chair for me! And I started to cry.

I feel that I have been given the opportunity (I can’t think of another word) to feel a tiny bit of the grief that a parent feels when a child dies, or that a wife feels when her soulmate dies. Just a smidgen. Just enough, I think, to keep me humble. Just enough to help me realize how precious our relationships are, how precious our time with our loved ones is. I see Leah often. She comes to visit for a few days. I go there to visit for a few days. But I know that our close relationship is over. It is so hard not to grab on to her and sob and cry. I know that a bereaved parent, or spouse has no hope of any consolation – No hope for any spring-break visit. My heart aches for their loneliness.

Point: I’m scared - really scared because of the taste I have had of it. And knowing that when the real test comes, I might not have the faith and courage to live with it..