Reunion

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

I loved our Relief Society lesson on Sunday about The Second Coming. After talking about Christ's return to Earth, and the destruction and resurrection and everything that comes with it, our instructor asked, "What feelings do you have when you think of His Coming?" There were a lot of nods when someone mentioned fear, as well as when someone answered, "A combination of joy and anxiety!"

I felt the Spirit so strongly throughout that hour of discussion. As a child, I always thought it sounded a little scary, but also hoped I'd be here for that time to witness the change and excitement. As an adult, my feelings haven't changed much, except that the level of excitement has intensified beyond measure. In the past 19 months, I have often said to Dan, "I can't wait for that day." My new favorite phrase associated with The Second Coming is how Christ will "usher in the Millennium". All I can think and feel is, "It's not happening fast enough!" I don't understand entirely how it will work, whether it's different if I am on this earth or have passed. But either way, in death or in surviving the turmoil that will come, I will be reunited with my son.

I have pictured that moment countless numbers of time:

My death as an old woman, slipping over to the Spirit World, where surely Ty will greet me as an adult whom I will still recognize; or here on this earth when angels might place him as an infant in my arms and I get to raise him. I imagine holding my arms out to receive him, witnessing that sweet gummy smile that lights up his eyes. With Dan by my side, I squeeze him tightly, laughing and crying in disbelief to be with him again. My sweet little boy.

I flipped through his baby pictures, craving that smile I just wrote about and those beautiful eyes staring back at me. Having taken 90% of those pictures, I couldn't help but think, "He was looking at me, smiling at me, clicking his picture from behind the camera. He really loved me." I know he still does. At times when I've found this groove of normalcy in my life, although not a day passes that I do not think of him, my mind is not constantly caught up in picturing his face and where he might be at this very moment. But then I have lessons like the one on Sunday, and I feel him all over again. So real. So alive.

When I hear a mother talk about her son who is serving a mission, I see the anticipation and joy on that woman's face as she counts down the day to his return. I completely understand, times a millennium! What a sweet reunion it will be.