Remembrance
Year before last, I was asked to speak on Memorial Day weekend on the subject of "remembrance." The story of my best friend Barbara was what came to me and stayed. Memorial Day was her last day on this earth, and the work that we did for her was an act of remembrance.
Our visionary bishop had announced that the ward should provide family names, using no temple names at all, for the upcoming youth temple trip. The goal he set before us was 500 names, and we had three months. He called a family history specialist to provide all members of the ward with assistance as needed, and the members were stunned but got to work. The target date was mid-May.
Barbara had done some genealogy and felt it crucial to have the work completed before, as she put it, she came face to face with her family members who would say, you knew who I was--why didn't you get my work done? She was not well enough to go to the temple, but she prepared the work and sent three of her children among the youth on that day. (They had a total of 496 names to do, a remarkable achievement.)
Plenty of adults went to help, and a good friend and I asked that Barbara's family women be completed first for baptism and confirmation, so that we could take those names up to do the initiatory ordinances for them before we went home. We did so, and were done in time for everyone else in the baptistry.
At home the next couple of days, I felt shoved--that's the only word that fits, and the one I expressed to the bishop--to get a ward temple session to go do the endowments for these family members. I went to see him on Wednesday evening and made that request: could we set a specific session for the following Saturday and ask the members to come do this for Barbara. I knew that we only had the one Sunday to make this appeal, I knew the Saturday in question was over Memorial Day weekend and many people would be away. Nonetheless, this was urgent. And, the initiatories for the brethren needed to be done still.
The bishop gladly agreed and made the appeal over the pulpit. Barbara was past the point of being able to attend meetings, and everyone knew that time was short. Brother Dan O'Brien went up to the temple earlier in the week and did the needed initiatories for the men, and we were set.
Diane Hill and I had each had a special feeling with one of the sisters in doing the initiatory ordinances, and I had asked Barbara who these individuals were. Mine was her grandmother, for whom her daughter Hendrina was named. Diane's was the aunt for whom she was named--her name was originally going to be Marian. (Can you believe that? as joined at the hip as we became, we almost had the same name. I knew she had a younger sister named Marian, but that was apparently a bump down the list to the next daughter.) This Aunt Barbara died the day she was born, so her parents named her Barbara after her.
We got to the temple early so that we could go through the stack and choose those two names to continue with. We had exactly the number of sisters we needed, nineteen. We only had a couple of brethren, so seven more had to be done later, but it was a joyous feeling to be there together and know how much this mattered for our dear friend. I had a singular experience, and knew that 'grandma' was right there with me. The last time I was able to talk to Barbara coherently was the next day, Sunday, to share that experience.
The following day, Memorial Day, we had plans with friends across town, and I popped in at Barbara's in the morning before we left. She was very weak, and a little fretful (which was not like her). I told her husband that I would be back later, when we were home. I told my husband that she would be gone within the week, she was so much worse.
That evening I did come back but she was asleep. I did not want to wake her or disturb her in any way, and I told the family that I would come back tomorrow. I never had the chance, because she passed from this life that night, about 2 a.m. I was so glad that we had been able to do the temple work that was weighing on her, and that I had been able to share my experience heart-to-heart while she had a clear mind. Only one day's difference--I think she felt finished. She could indeed embrace her family members on the other side with a glad heart, knowing that they had not been left forgotten.
At the funeral, I was invited to gather with the family the next day, and Bill agreed that we could drive out to Silverdale and do so. I asked Barbara's sister if she had a picture of her grandmother by chance, and it turned out that she did--she had a copy of her wedding photo. Radiant, joyful, that face burned straight into my heart and soul, and I will know her too when it is my turn to be met. Barbara will be there, and we will remember.
Our visionary bishop had announced that the ward should provide family names, using no temple names at all, for the upcoming youth temple trip. The goal he set before us was 500 names, and we had three months. He called a family history specialist to provide all members of the ward with assistance as needed, and the members were stunned but got to work. The target date was mid-May.
Barbara had done some genealogy and felt it crucial to have the work completed before, as she put it, she came face to face with her family members who would say, you knew who I was--why didn't you get my work done? She was not well enough to go to the temple, but she prepared the work and sent three of her children among the youth on that day. (They had a total of 496 names to do, a remarkable achievement.)
Plenty of adults went to help, and a good friend and I asked that Barbara's family women be completed first for baptism and confirmation, so that we could take those names up to do the initiatory ordinances for them before we went home. We did so, and were done in time for everyone else in the baptistry.
At home the next couple of days, I felt shoved--that's the only word that fits, and the one I expressed to the bishop--to get a ward temple session to go do the endowments for these family members. I went to see him on Wednesday evening and made that request: could we set a specific session for the following Saturday and ask the members to come do this for Barbara. I knew that we only had the one Sunday to make this appeal, I knew the Saturday in question was over Memorial Day weekend and many people would be away. Nonetheless, this was urgent. And, the initiatories for the brethren needed to be done still.
The bishop gladly agreed and made the appeal over the pulpit. Barbara was past the point of being able to attend meetings, and everyone knew that time was short. Brother Dan O'Brien went up to the temple earlier in the week and did the needed initiatories for the men, and we were set.
Diane Hill and I had each had a special feeling with one of the sisters in doing the initiatory ordinances, and I had asked Barbara who these individuals were. Mine was her grandmother, for whom her daughter Hendrina was named. Diane's was the aunt for whom she was named--her name was originally going to be Marian. (Can you believe that? as joined at the hip as we became, we almost had the same name. I knew she had a younger sister named Marian, but that was apparently a bump down the list to the next daughter.) This Aunt Barbara died the day she was born, so her parents named her Barbara after her.
We got to the temple early so that we could go through the stack and choose those two names to continue with. We had exactly the number of sisters we needed, nineteen. We only had a couple of brethren, so seven more had to be done later, but it was a joyous feeling to be there together and know how much this mattered for our dear friend. I had a singular experience, and knew that 'grandma' was right there with me. The last time I was able to talk to Barbara coherently was the next day, Sunday, to share that experience.
The following day, Memorial Day, we had plans with friends across town, and I popped in at Barbara's in the morning before we left. She was very weak, and a little fretful (which was not like her). I told her husband that I would be back later, when we were home. I told my husband that she would be gone within the week, she was so much worse.
That evening I did come back but she was asleep. I did not want to wake her or disturb her in any way, and I told the family that I would come back tomorrow. I never had the chance, because she passed from this life that night, about 2 a.m. I was so glad that we had been able to do the temple work that was weighing on her, and that I had been able to share my experience heart-to-heart while she had a clear mind. Only one day's difference--I think she felt finished. She could indeed embrace her family members on the other side with a glad heart, knowing that they had not been left forgotten.
At the funeral, I was invited to gather with the family the next day, and Bill agreed that we could drive out to Silverdale and do so. I asked Barbara's sister if she had a picture of her grandmother by chance, and it turned out that she did--she had a copy of her wedding photo. Radiant, joyful, that face burned straight into my heart and soul, and I will know her too when it is my turn to be met. Barbara will be there, and we will remember.
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