Pain In Life Is Inevitable; Finding Purpose Is A Choice

Not so many years ago, I marveled that my life and the lives of my family seemed relatively carefree. Our children were all in good places with their own lives, in stable relationships, healthy and happily pursuing their dreams. My husband and I had retired and set off to fulfill one of our dreams of being missionaries for our church in a foreign land. Thankfully, we had the means to do that, and our health allowed us to have that choice. I thanked my Father in Heaven often and as a matter of course, asked Him for blessings, of which I am in need.  My eternal companion often expressed his love for me, and he honored our vows. Our children showed their love and respect for us as their parents. Our grandchildren showed obvious adoration towards us, and we had an adequate income, a nice home, and many friends. I don’t know what blessings I expected the Lord to give me beyond all this, but I had learned to pray with that phrase being a vital part. That learned order also mandated that I first thank God for all my blessings, which I obligatorily did.

My life is so different these days. Our children have experienced many challenges, and as my husband and I age, we experience health challenges which put strains on our budget. The most difficult thing, however, is the loss of our daughter to cancer.

We are an eternal family with those blessings having been promised and sealed upon us in a temple ceremony by the authority of God through Priesthood power here on this earth. All we have to do to ensure the receipt of that blessing is to live worthily throughout our mortal existence. That’s the part of life I’m involved in now. My daughter passed away almost eight months ago. Looking back, it has gone fast. In retrospect, the last five years of her life whizzed by.

A couple of days ago, I saw an article on the internet announcing a vaccine for breast cancer that shows great promise of being “the one.” I read the article and closed out of the page, feeling defeated and angry. Robyn tried to get into one of those trial drugs programs but was turned down. I find myself repeatedly thinking, “what if?” What if they had accepted her into the program, what if her diagnosis had been two years later, what if she sought treatment at one of the specialty clinics for cancer, perhaps we were not faithful enough in our prayers on her behalf to qualify for the healing blessing.

Instead, here we are living life without her. I make do by watching videos where I melt into her beautiful smile transfixed by her expressive big blue eyes. I shake my head at her silly expressions and antics and once again smile when she laughs. I listen to voice mails, where she inevitably starts with, “Hi Mom.”

Someone asked me recently, “How do you do it? You seem to be handling it well.” I said, “I just get up every morning and live.”  There was a part of me that felt a little guilty. Am I not grieving like I should for my little girl? I suppose the person who asked me that question did not realize that I still cry. I still get angry that she’s not with us in mortal existence. I still agonize about the pain I witnessed her suffer. I still ask my creator what the purpose of all this is. I still wonder about life and the eternal perspective of our existence. I told my son recently that I feel like the only thing I have left from a spiritual perspective is hope. I hope that I will someday see my daughter again in a real sense.

A few weeks after her death, I prayed to God, asking him to help me feel his love and to assure me that my daughter was okay. Something happened to me that night, and I cling to that experience. Right now, I’m living by faith. At some point, my earthly brain will have all things made known to it, and I will fully understand my purpose on earth. I frequently recall the experience I had that night when I pleaded with my Father in Heaven for comfort because that’s all that keeps me “okay.” It’s been impossible to recall it completely. I am only able to remember that it happened and was nothing short of wonderful. Whether it was real or not, it is what I need to stay sane and focused.

Beyond all that, I stay busy. I read, write, crochet, create, walk, and do. I wrote something many years ago that sums up my attitude about life. “So much of the world to see, so many interesting people to meet, so many tastes to experience, books to read, life to enjoy, and so little time to do it all.” I wrote that after reading the following quote from President Spencer W. Kimball. “One must live, not only exist; He must do, not merely be; He must grow, not just vegetate.”

I know my daughter, and she was a big enthusiast of life. She loved the out of doors, she was able to make others feel comfortable, she liked “real” people, she loved taking old furniture and making it new and useful again, she tackled hard things and took pleasure in conquering those tasks. She was a woman of faith.

I don’t know what’s ahead for any of us, but I’m going to continue enjoying my family, serving the Lord, and improving myself. That’s all I can do because one of my major breakthroughs in this life is to know that “pain in life is inevitable; finding purpose is a choice.”