I Can Still Smell the Roses

I Can Still Smell The Flowers... I was at work when my mother called to give me the sad news. My 92 year old grandma passed away. I started crying right then, and felt deep grief. I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to be there and that killed me. I didn't call her on her last birthday... all sorts of thoughts crossed my mind about what I didn't do, or what I didn't say. I took a plane the next morning and my sister Dinorah met me at the airport when I landed. I was happy to see her and happy to know that I would see my mother as well, but sad about our loss. When we got to church, most of the family was there. I greeted everybody, and went to hug my mom. She was sad, but at the same time, I know she was at peace; that same feeling we all felt by the end of the day. There were so many flower arrangements all throughout the room, and it made it smell so nice. I can still smell the flowers when I think about it. My cousin Doris played the piano beautifully... it must have been the occasion, but every note touched my heart. Her daughters were singing like angels, and I just cried. Everybody did. We would miss her, but we knew that she was now in a better place, a step ahead of us, and that brought tears of joy and peace to our hearts. I know that everyone there felt the spirit testify that God really is a God of love. I know that everyone there felt that there really is a plan of love for each of us, and that we are all together, in a big family, and that one day we will all be together forever. What a blessing is to know these things, and what a blessing it is to feel the love of God. As I looked at everybody in the room, I couldn't help but think about those blessings we all shared for being a part of my grandmother's family. What we had been taught, what we knew, who we were, who we are, who we will become... how everything has come to be... because of who my grandmother was and what she did... the decisions she made... and when she got married, the decisions they made. As I looked at her, with my mother beside me, laying there so small and pretty, I cried. Her face was beautiful; and so were her rosy cheeks. Her eyes were closed but no longer sunk and sad. Her hair was combed and her eyebrows raised. She looked like an angel with her pink lips closed. Her hands were pale, and were placed over her midsection. The two hands were not touching each other like one would expect; one rested above the other... as if she were about to rise it to caress you. She was wearing her special white dress which hugged her body so perfectly. There was a white rose placed by her. I can't express how much I love her. I will miss her so much. She was born on May 20th, 1916. My mother was born the same day in 1952. We always said she was her birthday present. Those two women had a lot in common. Those two women mean so much to me. They always did and they always will. They suffered the worst of pains, the loss of a young son. Both of them around 7 years of age. I can't even begin to understand the pain they must have felt. I always think of them as the strongest women I know, because I know they have felt a portion of God's pain, by seeing their son die. But today she's with her son. She's also with her husband and her parents and siblings. One day, my mom will be with her son as well. What a blessing to know that this is indeed true, that we are all to be together forever. There is no doubt that the women of our family share a special bond. We are all alike... we really are our mother's daughters and we are our grandmother's granddaughters. My mother was reading the scriptures while sitting beside me; she was reading ALMA 40: 11-12. Then she stopped to tell me a story about grandma. Later, my mother got up to speak. She shared her feelings and talked about life and death. She said something that touched my heart: "My mother was blind, but I know that today… she can see. She is in a place full of light." I know this is true. She talked about the virtues of that woman. She expressed her love and her testimony of the gospel. She was thankful that her mother made the decision to follow the Lord, and teach her children about His love as well. My grandma was a very honest person. Two other members of the ward spoke. They all talked about Jesus Christ. I felt the spirit so strong that day, and I felt humble. I felt so blessed and so peaceful. I can't believe how special we really are to our Heavenly Father. As I heard their words, I remembered the reason why I am here in this Earth. They spoke about life, and how this is a period for us to be tested and to prove that we can have faith in God. We must use our days wisely to be able to see God again and be welcomed by Him. After the funeral, we went to the cemetery to bury her. Once again, another man spoke. He asked us all, as he held a red rose, to remember our grandmother forever. He asked us to not let her memory died, as that rose would die. He asked us all to talk about her and her virtues to our children and grandchildren. I cried. A few days later, before my flight back home, I went to the beach with my mother and my uncle. My mother and I were looking at the ocean and she said something to me that made me feel so special. She talked to me about the Creation, and how God had made this place for us. She said that God had created this place, so perfectly, and cited some scriptures about the oceans and its limits, and the birds of the sky and the beasts of the earth, and about how men would rule over them and how we were created to His image. How special we are indeed to our Heavenly Father. How blessed we are to be alive and have this body and the opportunity to accept Him in our hearts and our lives. I love my mother, and I love my grandmother. I am them; I will always be them in so many ways. I wish I could hold them both and tell them that I thank their sacrifices and their unconditional love, forever.