Well,
September has come and is just about gone!
September 11th not only marked the 11th year since
9-1-1, but also was a 9-month marker for Zach being gone. When I think about 9-1-1, I think about how
much hate that was built up inside of those who attacked America that day. A hate so strong, it destroyed lives and in
turn devastated the families of those who lost their loved ones that grave
day. 9-1-1 is a moment in history
America will never forget.
It seems the
media had story after story of the heroic efforts of those who died in attempts
to try and save others. Ground Zero is
an incredible memorial to all those who lost their lives that day. If you have not had the opportunity to visit
Ground Zero—YOU NEED TO GO!!!
From 9-1-1, I
have pondered those who did not think twice about helping and rescuing someone
else—even if it put their own lives in jeopardy. From an incredibly hateful and destructive
act, Americans rallied together from search and rescue to cleaning up the
seemingly endless devastation. In
witnessing those charitable acts, I believe each of us possesses that
Christ-like attribute—charity.
I have been
the recipient of many charitable acts after Zach’s passing. From phone calls, emails, cinnamon rolls, hugs,
visits, to simply listening—my family and I benefited and were uplifted from
these charitable acts. My heart seems to
overflow with gratitude when I contemplate these blessings.
I was in the
grocery store a couple of days ago and I was standing in the “check-out”
line. There was a woman waiting her turn
standing in front of me. All of a
sudden, I heard a big crash only to turn around and find that an elderly woman
in her rider/wheelchair had crashed into a display—knocking many things
over. I witnessed her embarrassment. After finishing looking at her, I painfully
confess that I turned back around—facing the checkout stand. As I did so, I noticed the woman in front of
me. She was glaring and muttering an almost loathing for what had happened to the woman in the wheelchair. I do not share this next part to pat myself
on the back, but I share this with you as a “call to action.”
Upon
witnessing an almost hatred from the woman in front of me, I felt as if I was
being called to action—to diffuse a situation and lift someone who was
struggling. I turned back around, left
my cart in line, and went over to help this woman in the wheelchair. I started picking up the items that fell from
the display and putting them back on the rack.
This poor woman was so embarrassed and apologized over and over. I told her that it was all right, “accidents
happen.” After I finished helping her,
she thanked me and I went back to my place in line.
The entire
time I was helping this wheelchair bound woman, the woman in front of me in
line was watching me—I only know this as I looked up a few times to check on my
cart and observed her staring at me.
When I went back to the line, the woman’s (in the check-out line)
countenance had changed and softened.
The situation had been diffused and I personally was grateful that I
listened to a prompting to help someone in need.
Have you ever
turned into a monster when you get in your car and begin driving? Have you ever tried to hurry and beat someone
to a checkout line and cut him or her off?
Have you ever said, “that’s my husband’s job and I am not going to do
that?” Have you ever said, “I am just
too busy to help?” Have you ever had
a prompting to help someone only to ignore it and later find that you could
have helped that person?
Because we
are human, we are not perfect! My motto
used to be “I am a work in progress.” I
have since changed my motto to, “I must work to progress!” I have been busily engaged in many wonderful things—serving is healing and helps to bring peace in my life. This past Wednesday, I was working at the
temple and was asked to help a wheelchair bound woman who was exceptionally
debilitated. Upon finishing my work in
helping her, she leaned toward me and said, “thank you for helping me
today.” To which I replied, “thank you
for letting me help you—it was a treat for me.”
And at that point, she touched her head to mine. This woman brought me more joy, sweetness,
and peace to my soul than she will ever know.
Most certainly, by our offering an ounce of kindness through helping, serving, and being patient with others will transform our very souls.
Ground Zero
Ground Zero and you can see the engraved names of those who died.
Zach's drumsticks in a shadow box. The sticks on the left are engraved from Metcalf Mortuary. The sticks in the middle are his beat up and wonderful sticks he used all the time. The sticks on the right are the sticks ALL his friends signed and gave to us. And, of course, that beautiful quote to help us recall EVERY sweet memory of him.
Being a Nana is the one of the BEST gigs...ever :)
