Make a Wish...

That's...maybe a third? of the pictures I took at the cemetery last night.  Couldn't help myself.  The beauty was overwhelming.  I'll post the others one of these days.  But first I want to flesh out that story of last year's tumultuous Easter that I alluded to on Sunday.  It still will be very incomplete.  Too many of the details are private treasures.  But it goes something like this:

It was Easter Sunday.  No one had slept a wink.  Wes's condition was plummeting in spite of our family's best efforts and even after a brief hospitalization.  All of our doctors were difficult to reach.  It was Easter Sunday. 

But around 10 o'clock there was a knock on the door.   We weren't expecting anyone.  10 o'clock was right in the middle of our church block.  And it was, after all, Easter Sunday.  But there on the porch were Bishop Clark and Dr. Kendall.  My relief was instant.  I led Dr. Kendall back to Wes's room and she was immediately on the phone getting things done.  After what felt like hours of making medical arrangements, I left the room to track down my neglected children.  What were they up to?   Did they know what was going on?  Were they worried???  I found Spencer asleep, but Lucy was at the kitchen table, chattering happily and trying her very best to copy Bishop Clark's crayola marker masterpiece.    

His

Hers

It was a sight I won't ever forget.  I'm not sure anyone has ever seemed more like the Savior to me than Bishop Clark seemed in that moment, clothed in his Sunday best, sitting next to a five-year-old girl, and surrounded by colored markers. 

There were other quiet visitors that day and other treasured moments.  They are all, likewise, seared into my memory.   A beautiful priesthood blessing.  A beautiful Easter dinner (prepared by the same Dr. Kendall who'd spent hours with us in the afternoon).

And so much more. 

The joy of human love.  Every bit as overwhelming as the beauty of the earth.