I have been thinking a lot about my dad the last week or so. This week, on November 28th, he will have been gone for 2 years. It kind of hit me yesterday. A memory of my dad that made me smile. And makes me proud. You see, my dad was a veteran. He served two tours in Vietnam. Of course, I was just a very little girl, so I don’t remember much of that. One thing I do remember, though, is his footlocker.
Footlocker similar to the one my dad owned
Seems like a strange thing to remember, right? I remember that he had his green footlocker with our last name stenciled on it. He always kept important papers in it after he retired. Saturday, I was at our local good will (In UT,we call it Deseret Industries) and ran across someone’s awful attempt to paint one of those footlockers. It was fortunate for me because I picked it up for $6. There was no way that I could go back to the army green color, nor would I want to. So I painted it black. And then distressed it.
My dad had Alzheimer’s. He was only 73 when he passed away two years ago. I had the privilege to be his main caretaker for the last six months before he died. One thing that he always remembered was that he was in the military. He loved serving his country. He loved being a military man. I have always wanted his personal footlocker. It still contains his important things. Like his pictures and his important papers. But I will take the one that is just like it, and remember him every time I look at it.
So this post is in memory of my dad. Missing him very much this week. I will always treasure that time I had to serve my dad.
The last few weeks have been really tough. I don’t even know where to start. Just when I thought I was doing okay, we get another trial of epic proportions. This trial again rocked the world that I used to see with rose colored glasses.
People who are close to us and know what we are going through wonder at the additional trial that we are faced with. Some comment on how well we are doing. I don’t feel like I am doing well at all. Now, anyone who knows me or has read my blog knows that when I say that I am hanging in there, it literally means that I am really not doing that well. Hanging in. That’s all I am doing.
When the doctor told me that I seemed to be taking “this” remarkably well, I told him that I wasn’t really. He told me I had a really good poker face, to which I replied that I have had one for over a year now. And I have. It is how I function. How I get by minute to minute, day to day.
But here is the thing that I have to keep telling myself: God knows what he is doing. He is guiding my ship. It may not be going in the direction that I thought it should be going, but He is at the helm. I can only move forward, trusting that when all else fails, I will still put my faith in the One who sees the whole picture. I know that He is in charge and knows me better than anyone. So if things aren’t working the way I want them to, I will still trust in Him. I will follow God’s plan for me.
Sometimes the struggles we face in life can be so overwhelming. Little things that really should be the little things sometimes seem like mountains too high to climb. That is how life seems to be for us lately. I wish that losing Laney had been the last big trial and that we would handle all of the little things easier. And that is true for the most part. The little things really are just little things when compared to the BIG things.
As we struggle through yet another trial that seems to almost too much to even face, I try to remember what Elder Quentin L. Cook has told us: “Righteousness, prayer, and faithfulness will not always result in happy endings in mortality. Many will experience severe trials. When this happens, the very act of having faith … is approved by God.” Heavenly Father has told us that “Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not … , for God shall be with you forever and ever.”
As we continue to pray and be faithful, I know that having faith is enough for now. I also know that He knows our struggles and knowing this helps me to keep on keeping on. To find the courage to try again tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after.