Living Without Regrets

This entry isn’t so much about the mission. It’s more about my life. And it’s a tender reminder.

One of the greatest gifts my Heavenly Father has ever given me is the gift of having no regrets about my relationship with my husband despite his unexpected death.

I know that the premature and unexpected death of a loved one creates in everyone who is touched by that death a sense of urgency regarding their relationships with their own loved ones. I remember when Stuart Thatcher died in an airplane accident. He was so young and his death was so unexpected. All of us who knew him were shocked, devastated on behalf of Lib and his children, and grateful it wasn’t us. We attended to our relationships and, for a period of time, anyway, were thoughtful about and careful with them.

I know many of you felt that same way when Dan died so unexpectedly, and I was and am grateful for the positive changes that occurred in your lives and with your relationships. Some of you have told me about those changes, and your stories comfort me—it is entirely in keeping with Dan’s life that some positive things should emerge from his death.

The problem is our lives have a way of moving on, and we forget those feelings, and things return to “normal.” That is to say, we forget how fragile life is. In some ways, we have to forget in order to move forward. But I think there’s a way to remember without being paralyzed with fear. And I think it honors Heavenly Father’s creation of each of us individually to cherish each moment we have with each other.

Cherishing those moments together is at the core of my gratitude for being separated from Dan unexpectedly, yet left without regrets. Those of you who knew us well know we were not perfect, and that we did not always treat each other perfectly. After all, the achievement of perfection in relationships is one of the works in which we will engage in our next life. There, we will have better tools such as perfect and transparent communication. We will be able to engage in work on relationships with limitless resources, unchallenged by adversity. And we will have the perfect example of our Savior’s love to guide us.

But while we are here, in this imperfect world, struggling with our own imperfections and the imperfections of those we love, we must nonetheless try to improve our relationships daily. Dan and I, individually, were working very hard at that in the months before he died. And that fact alone brings me great comfort. While I grieve that I will never know in this life what we could have become together, it is sufficient to know that we were both doing the very best we could to make each other happy.

I find the timing of that marital growth very interesting. I have said before I don’t believe in coincidence. Some of you have heard me say that I believe our spirits know things that don't rise to the level of our traditional conscious thought, but are nonetheless real knowledge. I have concluded this after reflecting about how Dan used his time immediately before his death. I am convinced he didn’t know he was going to die, but his spirit did. I certainly didn’t know he was going to die, but my spirit did. As I think about the things that transpired between him and me, between him and his children and other people, it’s very clear that he was preparing to go away. He said things to me the day he left for the last time that were meant to last a lifetime. I said things to him in our last conversation that just came out of my mouth; he asked me why I said them and I couldn’t give him an answer. But they too were meant to last him and me a lifetime.

How grateful I am that our spirits were in tune with Heavenly Father and with each other. Towards the end of his life, we did cherish every moment together, though ignorant that the time together would be short. As I said at the beginning of this entry, this is a tender reminder. This life is not meant to be everlasting; we are away from Home. We will return Home someday. One of our tasks while away is to live with each other in such a way as to assure that when one of us returns Home, those of us that are left behind will not regret the state of our relationship.

Jesus said, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another" (John 13:34). I bear witness that one of the consequences of following His advice is peace. How grateful I am for a feeling of peace. It is a priceless gift.

I (still) love you, Dan.