"O death, where is thy sting?"

It's hard to describe with enough reverence what it feels like to be with someone the moment they die.

On February 1st, Rob's great-aunt Diane was taken off life support. We watched as Rob's grandmother said goodbye to her little sister. It was gut wrenching to see her pain. In that moment I thought of my own three younger sisters, and later in the waiting room I sent them texts telling them that I didn't know what I'd do without them, and that I love them. As Aunt Diane died, Rob's Grandma Toni whispered, "she gets to be with mom and dad now." I felt a sweet spirit whisper how true that was. It was a wave of peace to my fragile heart.

At the same time, my own grandmother was in the hospital, awaiting a diagnosis that would end up being cancer.

She declined rapidly and we brought her home so she could be comfortable. My mother cared for her so completely, so tenderly. I only hope my children love me half as much as my mom loves her mother.

Yesterday, my mom and I were holding Grandma's hands as she died. My daughters were in the room with us. We were all silently weeping. Suddenly, sweetly, a peace washed over us. A quiet. A calm. I looked up at my mom and said, "Can you feel that?" For a brief moment, the spirit testified to us that there is no sting in death. Life continues after this mortal existence. I know my grandmother, who's mother died when she was just 17, had a happy reunion with her family. Her sister Helen had died four years ago to the day.

While enduring the pain and loneliness of death, and throughout the expression of love through mourning, it is essential to remember that life is so much more than this frail, mortal existence.

"Life does not begin with birth, nor does it end with death. Prior to our birth, we dwelled as spirit children with our Father in Heaven. There we eagerly anticipated the possibility of coming to earth and obtaining a physical body. Knowingly we wanted the risks of mortality, which would allow the exercise of agency and accountability. “This life [was to become] a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God.” (Alma 12:24.) But we regarded the returning home as the best part of that long-awaited trip, just as we do now. Before embarking on any journey, we like to have some assurance of a round-trip ticket. Returning from earth to life in our heavenly home requires passage through—and not around—the doors of death. We were born to die, and we die to live. (See 2 Cor. 6:9.) As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven." -Elder Russell M. Nelson

So, farewell sweet Grandma, and know that I look forward to the day when we are reunited.

(Grandma at her surprise 85th birthday party on 10 Feb 2010.)


(Grandma as a teenager.)


Ruth Ellouise Snyder Foster
10 Feb 1925 - 12 Mar 2011