My aunt died last week.  She had been battling ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) for eighteen months.  The news wasn’t a shock, though the method it was delivered was unexpected.  That’s technology for you.  Within fifteen minutes of her passing, it was posted on Facebook.  I struggled more with that than with her death.

It may seem like a strange thing to say, that I was more concerned about how I found out than about what I was finding out.  My wonderful aunt had been a widow for twenty four years.  Her children were all grown with children of their own.  She was battling a horrible disease.  Her death was, in essence, a good thing.  It was a blessing for her to no longer be in pain, both emotional and physical. 

My religious convictions include a view of life after death.  In my faith we believe that our families can be together forever when we are sealed in the holy temple.  My aunt was sealed to her husband and her children.  They will all be together again.  With a promise as beautiful as that, and knowing that she left this life to enter the arms of her loving husband, how can I possibly stay sad for long?

I will miss my aunt.  She was an example to me of faith and strength.  The way she was able to raise her children after losing her husband was so inspiring to me.  She was one of those women who made everyone feel special.  Whenever she spoke to me, asking me about school or work or whatever happened to be going on in my life, I felt like she loved me more than anyone else in the world.  I know that she made everyone feel that way.  Her continued faith when she was diagnosed with ALS has been remarkable. 

My family visited my aunt just days before her death.  She told us (it’s a beautiful miracle that she was still able to speak!) that one of her grandchildren had asked her if she was scared to die.  Her response went straight to my heart and strengthened me.  “What is there to be scared of?”  She asked.  “I will get to see Jesus and Heavenly Father and your grandpa.”  What faith.  What an extraordinary testimony.  I will never forget it.  I will never forget her.  And knowing that she will be there to greet me when I leave this world is both a calming promise and a beautiful blessing to look forward to.