I have so much that I want to tell you, and I cannot wait till later to tell you. A lot has been swirling around in my mind, and I feel like I need to share it with you.
My aunt died a couple of days ago. Today is her funeral in
New Mexico. It was my mother’s sister. I have tried to go with my mom to these
types of events for a couple of reasons. I’m a mama’s boy, it is her family, I
don’t like it when mama has to do things on her own, as the oldest child, I
feel responsible to know this side of the family that we barely got in contact
with and because I just wanted to spend one on one time with my mom. I wasn’t
able to go, because I can’t get that much work off to drive all the way down to
New Mexico. Though it would be great to do another road trip with mama. We did
it last year for my mom’s younger brother.
Let me share with you why it has brought me mixed feelings. The reservations are a horrible place to live. On my mission, I was able to live and see what it is like to be on the reservation. Living on the reservation was the hardest thing that I have ever done in my life. People were dying everywhere, all the time. People were sad, depressed, stuck and had little hope or reasons to live. I took it upon myself to spread love, joy, the gospel, hope and happiness across that small nation, the size of Connecticut. It was just me and my companion for the Lakota Cheyenne River Reservation. I spent the most time on that reservation. I had never felt the spirit more powerfully as I did during Fast Sunday. I still remember the spiritually strong women who would stand almost each month and bare such powerful testimonies of how they KNEW without a doubt that it was true. I mean, I could feel the Spirit like a thick fog that you could cut with a knife! I remember feeling so refreshed and refueled going to church on Sunday, because I had spread all that I had all week long and needed refueled. I remember all the women, who had such strong faith! They could turn on and off the Spirit like a light switch and it would just radiate! I remember writing in my journal and writing to my mom, that I wanted that! I wanted to feel and bring that strength all the time. Though, I forget that it was a high price to pay and I think I have some of it.
Some of the saddest memories was hearing about the Native American Placement Program, the church implemented. The church would take in Native kids and have them live with members in Utah and Idaho. The intention was to help the Natives or the Lamanites have a better life. Though, it hurt the kids more than it helped them. The members abused and were cruel to the Native kids often times. I heard more tragic stories than good ones. My mom was one of the lucky ones. Her parents adopted my mom and her biological mother gave her up, because Grandma Thelma wanted a better life for mama. Grandpa Smith, said that Thelma gave up mama and said, “You guys can’t have children, so I will give you my daughter. You can provide her with a life that I will never be able to. Please, take her and love her and give her a life that I cannot give her.”
Let me share with you why it has brought me mixed feelings. The reservations are a horrible place to live. On my mission, I was able to live and see what it is like to be on the reservation. Living on the reservation was the hardest thing that I have ever done in my life. People were dying everywhere, all the time. People were sad, depressed, stuck and had little hope or reasons to live. I took it upon myself to spread love, joy, the gospel, hope and happiness across that small nation, the size of Connecticut. It was just me and my companion for the Lakota Cheyenne River Reservation. I spent the most time on that reservation. I had never felt the spirit more powerfully as I did during Fast Sunday. I still remember the spiritually strong women who would stand almost each month and bare such powerful testimonies of how they KNEW without a doubt that it was true. I mean, I could feel the Spirit like a thick fog that you could cut with a knife! I remember feeling so refreshed and refueled going to church on Sunday, because I had spread all that I had all week long and needed refueled. I remember all the women, who had such strong faith! They could turn on and off the Spirit like a light switch and it would just radiate! I remember writing in my journal and writing to my mom, that I wanted that! I wanted to feel and bring that strength all the time. Though, I forget that it was a high price to pay and I think I have some of it.
Some of the saddest memories was hearing about the Native American Placement Program, the church implemented. The church would take in Native kids and have them live with members in Utah and Idaho. The intention was to help the Natives or the Lamanites have a better life. Though, it hurt the kids more than it helped them. The members abused and were cruel to the Native kids often times. I heard more tragic stories than good ones. My mom was one of the lucky ones. Her parents adopted my mom and her biological mother gave her up, because Grandma Thelma wanted a better life for mama. Grandpa Smith, said that Thelma gave up mama and said, “You guys can’t have children, so I will give you my daughter. You can provide her with a life that I will never be able to. Please, take her and love her and give her a life that I cannot give her.”
As we have re-connected with my mother’s biological family,
they have told us horrible stories of how the members were cruel to them. Mom
and I are the only ones they have had contact with. But what was worse was, as
they grew up, none of my mothers’ siblings are close. They didn’t grow up
together. They were shipped out for 9 months with all different families and
then barely spent time with each other for the remaining 3 months of the year.
My uncles and aunts don’t really have family connections. My uncle said he felt
like there was no place for him. He didn’t belong with his own people and he
didn’t feel like he belong to the Mormon people. My mom is the only one of 13
that is in the church. The rest of her siblings live very different lives, full
of sorrow, sadness and bitter feelings towards life and God. They live good
lives, but there is something missing. I have been trying to do my family
history work for them, because it breaks my heart to hear the stories. But I
love them! They are a piece of me and I with them!
It is hard to watch mama interact with her siblings. She is so different from her siblings. They told her that she is the lucky one who escaped, loved and had a stable family. Though, mama’s life has had it’s horrible challenges, they are right. I have been on an emotional rollercoaster ride because of all of this. I wish I was with mama right now to be there. I know how to assist people during funerals! I know how to heal hearts! I don’t want mama to be alone during a hard time. I am also struggling with gratitude and doubt. I don’t know why mom was saved and not her siblings? I don’t know how the law of compensation has come to help my family? Have not my family and people suffered enough? I am just overwhelmed with sorrow and gratitude for my family. Funerals are never a time that family should come to be together….
So what I have learned from this:
People who aren’t a part of the gospel don’t forgive. They don’t let go of the hurt. They don’t know how to access the atonement or use the Spirit of God to overcome the ugliness of this life. My Aunts and Uncles are not inclined to forgive or forget. They are bitter and the hurt has cankered them. I see what a blessing it is to be a part of the gospel and to be able to hope for better things.
It is hard to watch mama interact with her siblings. She is so different from her siblings. They told her that she is the lucky one who escaped, loved and had a stable family. Though, mama’s life has had it’s horrible challenges, they are right. I have been on an emotional rollercoaster ride because of all of this. I wish I was with mama right now to be there. I know how to assist people during funerals! I know how to heal hearts! I don’t want mama to be alone during a hard time. I am also struggling with gratitude and doubt. I don’t know why mom was saved and not her siblings? I don’t know how the law of compensation has come to help my family? Have not my family and people suffered enough? I am just overwhelmed with sorrow and gratitude for my family. Funerals are never a time that family should come to be together….
So what I have learned from this:
People who aren’t a part of the gospel don’t forgive. They don’t let go of the hurt. They don’t know how to access the atonement or use the Spirit of God to overcome the ugliness of this life. My Aunts and Uncles are not inclined to forgive or forget. They are bitter and the hurt has cankered them. I see what a blessing it is to be a part of the gospel and to be able to hope for better things.
I am grateful to be able to see the Hand of God in the lives of others. I am being reminded of how important it is to live up to the covenants of baptism and the temple! There is so much suffering, sadness, hopelessness and many diverse ways that people go and do to feel happiness and peace. But of all the things that we could be doing, living the gospel is so important. Sometimes I forget how much I can make a difference in so many lives. I forget that I can change the course of the future for anyone! But that is also true with YOU too!
After writing this, I feel better. I feel peace. I feel very blessed and very slothful. I can help more. I can heal more. I can reach out more. I can give of myself more freely. I am so greatly blessed. It reminds me of the hymn: Savior may I love my brother, when I walk imperfectly? I would learn the healers art. Pause to help and lift another, finding strength beyond my own. Lord, I would follow thee.
Thank you for trying your hardest to be kind to me. I am so very grateful to have had rubbed shoulders with such a grand man of God! If we all had the opportunity to rub shoulders with a man like you, we’d never taste the aches of despair. :*)
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