...and to all a good night

christmas time is never really an easy time now.

normally it would be filled with joy, peace, and laughter,

but there is always a little piece that misses what could have been.

this christmas marks sam's second birthday and grandpa's second christmas in heaven.

as i was listening to my christmas playlist, the song "christmas in heaven"

by scotty mccreery and tears started to fall.

the questions that are asked during the chorus

are always the hardest to make through:

And I wonder

Are you kneeling with shepherds before him now?

Can you reach out and touch his face?

Are you part of that glorious Holy night?

I wonder: what Christmas in Heaven is like?

Is the snow falling down on the streets of gold?

Are the mansions all covered in white?

Are you singing with angels "Silent Night"?

I wonder: what Christmas in Heaven is like?

that first christmas i bawled every time i heard this song.

it's getting better, but the wound is still fresh.

there are so many first, and seconds, and thirds,

that i don't often want to think about it.

but i will teach my children that grandpa

was an amazing man, who loved christ and his family

more than anything else in the world. 

that he worked hard days and nights to provide a life

worth living for his family.

and that he is waiting in, and watching from, heaven

for the rest of us to join him one day.

the christmas season is about celebrating the birth of our savior.

yesterday, we had the opportunity to bless and give a name to a newborn nephew.

and it just brings to mind some of the thoughts that 

mary would have been experiencing as she bore the christchild.

how much do you think she understood of the father's plan for her newborn?

do you think she understood she was carrying the savior of the world?

this christmas season, let us focus on the lord of lords,

and king of kings. the one who's birth the angels sing.

for he truly is the reason for the season.

he suffered so that the sting of death cannot last.

he died so that we might live again with our families.

is that not enough to celebrate?

little moments

grandma and i
in front of a statue of joseph & hyrum smith

grandma and grandpa bingham
in front of the nauvoo temple

grandpa bingham
explaining the use of a cellar

the rebuilt nauvoo temple

little did i know that this was going to be the last time 

i would spend time with grandpa.

and that hurts a lot.

three and a half years ago, we stopped in nauvoo, illinios to appreciate the time 

that the early lds saints had spent here and learn about the city 

they created on the crest of the mississippi river.

this would also be the last time i would

spend with my grandfather on this side of the veil.

grandpa was always willing to share a piece of the vast amount of knowledge

that he accrued over the years. i always begrudged the idea of riding in the car

with him because he really did always want to share something.

but now i wish i could take back every skipped ride

so i could just spend a few more minutes with him.

he was a strong man, both physically and spiritually.

i miss him like crazy, and every time i see a big green tractor

in the amber fields of grain, i have to choke back tears.

grandpa only heard me speak spanish fluently once.

over the phone, minutes before he passed away.

i can still remember that night like it was yesterday.

i was sitting in a lesson with a less active and her granddaughter.

we had just finished the closing prayer when i got a call from my mission president.

it was 7:15pm on a wednesday. 

he called and asked me where i was.

he calmly explained that my mother had called 

and that i needed to go home before she called me at 7:30pm.

he explained that my grandfather was in the hospital and

my family was worried that he wouldn't make it through the night.

i walked back home in a daze and barely said a word to my companion.

i sat down across from my companion at our desk and waited for the phone call

from +1 (865) mom-num#. 

as soon as i picked up the phone, i had a pit in the bottom of my stomach.

she explained that my grandfather had become seriously ill

since the slightly worrying, but otherwise normal, email i received on monday.

she told me that he was on a ventilator and that all the other grandchildren

had said their good-byes. i was the last one.

and i began to cry as i bore my testimony in a language that only he could understand.

i do not remember a single word that i said to him, in english or in spanish.

i just know that it was something special between him and i. 

i could hear the heart monitor begin to panic as i finished.

mom got back on the phone and said that it was time to go.

and that was the last time that i spoke to my grandfather.

i think i made it to the dial tone before i broke down crying.

my companion politely excused herself and left me alone with my thoughts.

i called my zone leaders and attempted to explain through my cries

that my grandfather had passed and that we wouldn't be continuing to work.

he vaguely said "uh huh" and hung up, too.

at this point i was ugly crying with snot, hiccups and giant gasps of air.

i poured myself onto my knees beside my bed and did the only thing

left that i could do: pray.

what words came out of my mouth and the language are all a blur.

all i could feel and remember was my stomach hitting the floor over and over

as the reality of that short ten minute phone call washed over me.

i remember having the impression to write about that day in my journal,

so i crawled over to the desk once more, sat next to my bed, and wrote for the next 45 minutes.

every heartache, every sob, every feeling was written down on a single page in my journal.

by the time i was finished writing, the sobs had subsided and i had a feeling of peace.

i would be able to make it through these next few days.

the emails that i would receive describing reunited family, beautiful eulogies,

and thoughtful flowers that we all knew grandpa would disapprove of,

wouldn't be the daggers in my heart i thought they would be.

i could survive.

my companion knocked on the door to the room and

asked if she could come in.

we planned, and i answered the next three phone calls with some difficulty:

the zone leader, looking to be comforting;

the sister leaders, who didn't quite grasp my grief;

and the mission president's wife, who let me grieve for just a moment 

before telling me to be strong and serve the lord with all energy of heart.

the next days were precious. i had some wonderful experiences with 

the scripture in doctrine and covenants: 

"and whoso receiveth you, there I will be also,

for I will go before your face. 

I will be on your right hand and on your left,

and my Spirit shall be in your hearts,

and mine angels round about you,

to bear you up."

i had never had such a personal fruition of a scripture

until that week. angels walked with us, and

most importantly, i knew that i was supposed

to be on a mission in nicaragua at that time.

little moments come and go,

and it is our duty to capture them.

take the crazy photos.

take the time to sit and chat.

put the phone down and enjoy the moment.

because they rarely last.

and they rarely come around again.