Wednesday, March 23, 2011

I don't want to post. I don't want Sammy's face to slip down beneath new posts. I love pulling up my blog each day and seeing her. Tuesday Sammy is what we call that picture. :) Tuesday was such a good day. There was so much to smile and laugh about. Sammy was so snugly and sweet and smiley! Tuesday was such a good day!

And there are still good days. There are still things to laugh and smile about. It's just shadowed by this melancholy feeling. This loss to us all. We can laugh and joke and play. We can enjoy our children. But beneath it all we are all worried and sad. We are all trying to grieve our own minuscule loss while doing everything we can (which is so very little) to help our dear friends.

I hope I don't ever sound like I'm bringing this loss back to me as I post. I will never deny that I am also grieving for Sammy. I miss her. I ache to hold her. I cry for her daily. But my missing and my ache and my tears are NOTHING compared to the missing and ache and tears of her mother and father and family.

The reason I say that is because I talk here about me. This is my place. My journal. I write my feelings and no one else's. And I don't want that to sound as if I'm making this loss about me. I can only write my side of this story. And that is what I will put here. And I don't want that to be read the wrong way. Because I have already watched others make this about them and it makes me so very angry!!!

We have a strange little group here. Strange in the most wonderful way. We see each other almost daily, and when we don't we are texting or talking or whatever. We laugh and have ridiculous inside jokes and share way too much with each other. We drive our husband's crazy. But we love and support each other in a way that I don't think most women understand. I don't think many women have what we have. And it has been such a blessing in the last week and a half!

Sammy's passing has been all consuming for us. We have spent countless hours together talking and crying and laughing and remembering and wondering how to help and planning meals and childcare and cleaning and finding anything and everything we can do to keep our minds from wandering to our own grief.

I found myself talking with one friend yesterday about how overwhelming it has been at times. I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I found myself wishing for a break. Just a day or two to relax and do nothing and to escape it all. To just not remember and to get away. And my next immediate thought is Laura. How I'm sure she wishes that she could have a break. For just a day or two. To relax and to do nothing and to not remember her hurt and pain. How she and Kasey must be so desperate to go back to Saturday. How they would trade in all the stress and worry of that day just to have their Sammy back in their arms.

And I am then reminded that I must turn to my Savior. I NEED His strength. I need Him to carry me through my physical and emotional exhaustion so that I can ease theirs. I need Him to make my hands His so that I can serve them as He would. I need Him to make my lips His so that I can find the words that He would have spoken to them. I need to make my arms His so that when I embrace my friends they can feel His love. I need to become like Him so that they feel Him near when they are near me. So that they can feel near their perfect Sammy when they are near me. I need to be more like Him so that I can feel that peace and strength that I need so desperately right now.

I keep wondering how we are here. How I am not just a child watching my mother and all of the grownups around plan a funeral and make meals and help with kids. How is this happening to MY friends? How are we here? How has this happened? How was she here one beautiful moment and gone the next? But none of that wondering matters. What matters is what I allow Sammy to teach me. She served and is still serving her mission for our Father in Heaven. She came to teach me to serve and to love and to live better. She came to show me what perfection is so that I can strive to emulate her life. She came so that I could learn to be like Sammy, in and turn, so that I could learn to be like my Savior.

What a gift to have known Sweet Sammy. To have loved her and to have held her. To have been taught by a perfect angel of the Lord.

2 comments:

Brad & Brandi Nielson said...

McKenna, you are a blessed angel. I met you for only a short time but could tell how wonderful you were. I feel comfortable knowing that our family is in such care of a very loving person. We weren't fortunate enough to spend time with Sammy while she was alive but her spirit lives on in us. I can already feel how much her life and passing has impacted our lives. My heart aches for Kasey and Laura and the girls and I wish so much I could be there to help and hold them through this. Thank you so much for being a great friend. Thank you for helping out in their times of need. Thank you for posting your feelings too as they are feelings that are resonated by so many. Keep up the good work girl, you're truly one in a million.

Thank you,

Brandi Nielson

Jill said...

Amen to what Brandi said! God bless you, McKenna!!
As I read your post I was filled with regret. Regret that I didn't spend more time holding and loving her when I was there. Regret that I didn't somehow realize how quickly she could be taken from us. Regret that I'm not as close to the Spirit as I should be so I could have been prepared. So much regret. And then I realize that regret is similar to guilt. It doesn't do any good. It won't change things. Sammy is gone and regretting or feeling guilt will not bring her back. How I wish that it would, but it can't. I need to remember what Sammy's mother taught me today and move on. No more regret! Just remember our little magnet in heaven and move on striving to live worthy to see her, hold her, love her again!