Thursday was one of those days that started out tough. Nothing was right as far as John was concerned. He didn’t like the clothes he was wearing, didn’t like his shoes, did not want to go to day care. Somehow, we worked our way through it. We prayed, and that helps.
But he was not real happy the rest of the day and I went to get him early. He was having a hard time at school, and had been asking for me to come get him from about 11 that morning. And Conference was tough, so I was glad to go. I saw some cronies and that was a blessing. Did not see everyone I wanted to. Bishop King’s wife, Rose, had a sweet and profound blessing for me that threw me for a loop, and I wasn’t really the same after talking to her. It hit me, too, that now I am appointed, not us.
In the evening, we were in the pool, and Joe said he wanted to go to the cemetery. I have been asking them if they want to do that, and they always say no. So when Joe asked, I jumped on it. Put some shirts and flip flops on and headed out before they could change their minds.
They put some flowers on the grave. We had a talk about how the body is in the ground, but the soul, who she is, is in heaven. Man, that is hard enough to explain to adults! But somehow it sank in, so much so that I think Joe finally gets that she is not coming back. It’s not like before, 4 or 6 weeks in the hospital and she comes home somehow, someway.
And the day changed for John. Something about being there, talking frankly. I could see something pass out of him or drain out of him.
They’re so cute. I woke up early and went to watch them sleeping, spend some time in prayer for them. They’re so precious, so special, so dear; I can’t understand how it is that in my dealings with them I find myself as impatient and downright mean as I am. But prayer works. That is a fact; start the day with prayer and it’s not so much a guarantee as a primer of conscience. Forget to pray and you’re hosed. It’ll all depend on your good nature then, and if you’re like me, that’s slim pickens.
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