Life, Loss and Healing

Life has a way of changing us.
Changing our minds,
changing our beliefs,
changing our circumstances,
changing our perspectives.
But most of all...changing our hearts.

Time is a funny thing.

Remember when you were a kid and waiting for Christmas was a lifetime away. Now it feels like time is passing at light speed.


I have tried to write about the events of the last month over and over again.
But every time I started, my mind just got flooded with so much emotion that my hands could not type fast enough.
So please forgive me if none of this makes sense.


When I was growing up I did not understand my dad. In fact, if I'm being honest,  there were many times when I don't think I even liked him. I had my own ideas of what I thought life should look like and in my mind, this was not it.

I have been thinking a lot about scars lately.

I have a scar on my knee from Kindergarten. Its actually a memory that makes me smile.I won't tell you what year, but I will tell you where. We lived in Pierce City, MO. and I was being chased by a boy. But not just any boy, a boy I liked! And then I fell on a rock. What I have left from that fall is a memory and a scar that I have stared at most of my life.

I have another scar on my right wrist. Again from a memory that brings warmth to my heart. I was Christmas shopping with GT in Sears for a specific truck one year for Tyler. Tyler was about 5. I had finally found the truck and as I hurriedly grabbed it off the shelf a loose piece of metal sliced my wrist.

Then there are of course, the stretch marks. Most moms have them. I remember asking my mom about hers when I was a child. And I remember the first stretch mark I got. I will spare you the gruesome images. (Your welcome) Besides, there are just too many! But the memories these scars evoke are painful and yet so precious.

You can hardly get through life without scars of some kind.

We all have scars. We all have stories that accompany each one. And it is a recent scar that has me thinking about wounds and the healing that always follows.

 Emotional scars~

 I can't take a picture of those. But it does not mean they are not there. And as I was watching my latest wound heal, I was wondering why the emotional scars can't heal as fast at the physical ones do.

I do not mean for this post to be hurtful to anyone. I am simply writing because its healing for me. And for true healing, you have to be honest.

Emotional scars are a very funny kind of wound. I spent years in therapy trying to heal the hurts from my childhood. But telling or wanting or even willing your soul to heal is like telling your bones to heal. They heal and mend on their own time frame. I had pushed whatever pain remained from my unresolved hurts and memories into the deep dark corners of my heart. Hoping that I would be able to just live in the present and forget about the past. But as with any physical wound that has not healed completely, there is always a risk of re-injury.

This seemed to be my lot in life.

Just when I would feel like my heart was whole again, an old wound would burst apart. Spilling the toxins of stored up pain and anguish. I had gotten really good at hiding this hurt filled part of myself from most of the world. But there were a select few who walked through the years of tears by my side.

Here comes the honesty.

The first half of my life most of these wounds came indirectly from my Father. You see, what I became to believe about myself and who I was was the result of how I thought my Father viewed me. I felt most of my life like I was not worthy. Like I was not as smart, or spiritual. Like my thoughts and opinions did not matter as much as his did. And most of all...I felt like it was more important for him to be right than for him to show love.  (That honesty only cost $3,465.32 in therapy)

After we chose to leave Mormonism the relationship with my Father only got worse. It became clear more than ever that being right in his mind was again more important than showing love. I had come to a place in my heart where I realized it was more important for me to please God than it was to please my Dad. And I had reconciled the fact that I would most likely never have the kind of relationship that I secretly longed for. So we agreed to disagree and did not have much more than surface conversation after that.

By the time life had landed us in Pennsylvania last August the relationships with me and my 8 siblings were strained with some and non-existent with others. I felt very distant not only physically, but emotionally as well.

The News~

The morning of April 7th 2012 I was getting the kids ready for the Easter egg hunt when I got the call.  My mom and sister Marie were on the phone. My mom proceeded to tell me about the tumours in my Dads liver and the cancer that had started in the bile ducts and metastesized into the prostate, pancreas and liver.

I carefully listened as to not miss any vital information. When I hung up the phone I fell to the floor in a pile of tears. I felt like I could not breathe. The kids were still waiting to go to the Easter egg hunt, so I threw on a wide brim hat and sunglasses and we walked out the door.

The next morning....Resurrection Sunday and my Dad's 70th birthday. It was an emotion packed day. I was heart broken that he was spending his birthday and Easter morning in the hospital. I was further heartbroken knowing it was most likely his last Easter or birthday he would spend with us. All I could think about was how I was going to get to Utah from Pennsylvania. As I talked with my family everyone seemed certain that he would hold on for at least a few months. I however, knew God was telling me to get out there ASAP.

A Gift~

GT's brother works for Delta Airlines. With a few phone calls he was able to get Sami and I on a plane to Utah. So while I was still in PA getting the kids taken care of, packing and lose ends tied up, it seemed that art was the only way for me to think.

GT's Dad picked us up from the airport and then offered me his Jeep to drive while I was there. By this time, any act of kindness was like turning on a faucet in my eyes.

I had no idea what the next few weeks would be like. And there was no way to anticipate, prepare or brace myself for stepping into the world of death right before my eyes. I also felt completely overwhelmed with the complexities of the relationships within my family. But what happened once I arrived was the biggest surprise of all.

Unexpected healing~

When I arrived I found my Dad small, frail and thin. I was not prepared for what was right before my eyes. And everyday as more family arrived and we took turns caring and loving on my Dad, I experienced a healing of deep emotional scars that I had never thought possible. For the first time in my life I was experiencing and basking in the most love I had ever felt before in my parents home.

I saw a side of my father that I had never seen before. He was tender and intimate in every conversation. He was humble and thankful. He called me beautiful and sweetly told me how much he loved me. And then he told me that he knew I was in a good place and understand where I was in my relationship with God.

I was amazed that it was death and loss that God was using for healing my deep hurts and reconciliation. But I guess that is just what God is in the business of doing. This was not the first time, nor will it be the last. Christ HAD to die for us to be reconciled with God. And He still has the scars too!

I have no expectations of my children escaping the emotional scars that I will cause. No more than I expect them to try to get through childhood without ever falling down. But one thing I do know, God created us and He knows how to heal us. And I am so thankful!

 He makes beautiful things from the ashes of our lives..... Happy Fathers Day Dad. This is my gift to you, hope your watching from above.

All my love,
Malinda