My grandpa's funeral was last week, and if there was one emotion I've experienced the most out of this month, it's gratitude (is gratitude even an emotion? I guess it is now). Grateful that he had an amazing and accomplished life. Grateful that he was part of mine. Grateful that he loved us so much and we knew that until the end. Grateful that we were able to have a funeral, even during this pandemic. And even grateful that I had gotten COVID about a month ago, just in time for me to be able to hug my grandma and cousins and aunts and uncles during the funeral. Grateful that we have a family that loves each other, a family that is so close in proximity. Grateful that the day wasn't rainy (even though I love the rain, but it would've ruined the service). Grateful that the windows opened up to the beautiful Mount Time, my Grandpa's favorite hiking place. Grateful that ward members arranged for all of us to have a beautiful luncheon and service. Grateful that we ...
There are few places in the world that I feel are Holy. I haven't been to the temple in over a year, and I rarely physically go to our church on Sundays. But this week, my Holy Place was a hallway. It was when my mom slid her phone under the door of my COVID infected sister's room so she could say what we think are our goodbyes to our dying 89 year old grandpa. The end of his life has been excruciatingly painful. He's a scientist, a well-traveled and well-known scholar with an extremely sharp mind - hence why he's become so frustrated with his body as it fails to keep up with his brain. As much as he has hurt these past years, he's never once said that he just wanted to die. Now he's saying that. And we can't even give him a goodbye hug. This is an extremely personal story, one that I have a little hesitation about sharing. However, I feel that someone needs to know that, even though we haven't been able to go to temples or church or attend Family Ho...