This week I’ve had the blessing of reminiscing about the life of my dear Mother, Jackie McEwen, and the influence she’s had on me and my family. I don’t remember much when I was very little, but recently when going through old photos, I found pictures of Mom with us girls, when we were young. Mom told me many times how much she loved being pregnant and having a tiny baby. (She made it sound easy and fun.) She was excited and happy for each of her three children to join her family. I was especially touched by the pictures of her down on the floor with us.

I remember going shopping at Kmart with Mom. She loved to shop and buy clothes for her girls. That’s where I first learned about “layaway.” We had some fun dates to get our hair cut, too. Afterward, we’d go downtown and have corned beef on rye at our favorite deli, or barbeque sandwiches at Love’s.

Mom was smart and witty, with a great sense of humor. She was fun to be around. She listened to Credence Clearwater Revival, The Grass Roots, and lots of country music, including Kenny Rogers and Crystal Gayle. Once, when we were young adults, we all went to an Oak Ridge Boys’ concert. We had fun singing, “Giddy up oom poppa omm poppa mow mow.” She used to listen to the music loud in the car and push the brake pedal to the beat. She liked hosting neighborhood parties and dancing on the back patio. Our high school friends liked Mom and thought she was cool.

Mom enjoyed vacationing. She and Dad went on several cruises and always came back happy and tan. They also made it to Hawaii once. Mom’s favorite vacation has always been staying at the beach in Carpinteria. I have fond memories of many years of beach trips, with the whole family, including Grandma and Grandpa. Sometimes we stayed at the condos right on the sand; we just climbed three steps and were on the beach! It was such a fun and carefree time for us girls, and we got to spend a lot of time with Mom and Dad up there. Grandma would make chili or tacos, with root beer. We’d walk to “The Spot” for hamburgers and up the street to the drugstore for treats. Grandpa loved sitting up on the beach in the evenings and was so happy and peaceful there.

Mom continued to love the beach more than any other place on earth. She went every year until she left us. Her cousin, Pam, shared that passion with her, and they spent many vacations up there together. In the last few years, we all enjoyed time up there with her, keeping watch over her, including her sister, Jo, and her cousin, Vikki.  Mom had just been to Carpinteria a couple of months before her illness. My sister, Kris, spent a week with her, as she always loved doing, and my other sister, Heidi, was able to join her for the first time.  It was a tender blessing for them to have that special time together.

Mom was close with her own family. She spent a lot of time with her parents and brother and sister. We spent many holidays and Christmases all together, with yummy food, Grandma’s homemade treats, and presents all over the place. Auntie Jo had a pool, and there was always fun and hilarity at family gatherings.

Mom and Grandma took us girls on trips to Washington to see the great grandparents and great aunts and uncles. One time we took the train, which was really fun and exciting. I remember having a bag of things to do, like word puzzles and books. In Olympia, Washington, where they lived, we ran all around their huge wooded property and rode in a golf-cart-like vehicle. Sometimes it snowed! They had a cow, which was a novelty to us city kids. One year when we were there, Kris had a horrible allergy attack from the hay and couldn’t breathe. Another time, I was sleep walking in the middle of the night and fell down the stairs. We were both fine, but now I think, poor Mom! That must have been terrifying. The family there played cards, which Mom loved. Pinochle was her favorite, and they played for hours at a time while we were visiting. I sat and watched the grown-ups while they played.  I learned how to play, as a teenager, and sometimes they let me join in.  These last few years, Mom occasionally joined the kids and I for card games. The kids were surprised and amused at her competitive nature and sassiness during the games.  She played for fun, but wanted to win!

Mom was epically good at ping-pong. She had a unique way of holding her paddle, and she was incredibly consistent. She just got every ball back. Dad was so good at all sports, that he found it a little hard to constantly lose to Mom at ping-pong. There’s an infamous story of Mom once again beating him and hearing the paddle clatter against the door just after she walked through on her way out.

When we were kids, Mom worked a lot. She was very conscientious and took responsibilities seriously. She was talented at her job as a keypunch operator. She was lightning-fast. She and Dad ran their own business for a while. Grandma used to come and stay with us, during that time, in a room downstairs. I loved when she came. I missed my mom when she worked, but now I realize how much she did, working all day then coming home and making dinner, helping with homework and school stuff, and all the other things we needed. Mom continued to work until we were grown. She worked so hard, and worried so much, she eventually had a kind of mental breakdown and couldn’t work anymore. That’s when the second half of her life began.

It took a long time for Mom to recover from the stress she’d been under. Dad took over everything and began taking care of Mom in a different and tender way. I think it helped him that she needed him more, and he rose to the occasion. We’ve always been thankful he was so good to our mom. He adored her and would do anything for her. He called her his “sweet companion” and his “Dearie Face.”

Mom was a sports fan. She and Dad enjoyed watching all kinds of sporting events together. She never missed the Olympics. Her all-time favorite sport to watch was tennis, and Dad was a good sport about letting her have her idols, like Edberg and Federer. He even let her hang a poster of Edberg in the garage and “I heart Federer” stickers here and there.  They had a great time attending a tournament in Palm Springs a few times. After Dad died, Mom said she really missed discussing and watching the sports stuff with him.

Mom loved being “Gramma.” She totally embraced that role and it brought her so much joy. Her email was Grammaof12 and she had Gramma stuff all over her room. She adored the babies. The majority of the photos I have are pictures of Mom with the grandchildren. She read thousands of books to them, let them spend the night, attended their performances and tennis matches, wrote to them on their missions, and wanted to hear all about their lives and adventures. She and Dad were a huge part of their lives, especially when they were little.

Mom developed a passion for cross-stitching, after she retired. She had the skills and the patience to do the most intricate patterns. She made hundreds of beautiful projects and hung them all over her house. Doing that work with her hands helped her be calm and feel productive. She worked on projects up until her last month, when her brain would no longer do that anymore. About that time, I sat with her and helped her get the threads all labeled and ready, and watched as she tried to work on a new project.  She had trouble, but she didn’t get upset. She stitched and tore out one section several times.  She just kept at it. She didn’t complain or get frustrated. She told me that when she was younger, she used to get really upset if something went wrong, but she learned to just expect it and know that she could go back and fix it. Last year she did a project with a cute little grandma and grandpa.  After completing the entire piece, which was pretty big, she decided she didn’t love the color scheme, so she chose her own colors and did the entire project again.  It turned out beautifully. Near the end of her life, she moved her hands when she was kind of somewhere else in her mind. One time I asked her what she was holding (because her finger and thumb were touching) and she said, “The needle.” Immediately I could see, in her motions, that she was stitching and pulling on the thread. She was still cross-stitching in her head right up to the end. I love that.

Mom liked puzzles—all kinds. She sometimes did jigsaw puzzles and had stretches of time where she’d do tons of crossword puzzles. Later in life, she learned to do sudoku puzzles and liked the quick little challenge of those. I got her a couple of easy sudoku books when she was sick, and she could still work those until the last weeks. She would get a little frustrated that her brain wouldn’t work the way it used to, but she kept a good sense of humor about it. She’d say, “It’s taking me all day to do this puzzle!” but she kept at it. I think her love of puzzles kept her brain strong. Until the last few days, she was alert and would smile and joke with us. Until the very end, she knew us still, and heard our words of love and gratitude.

The things mom loved-she really loved!  Tennis, giraffes, Tweety bird, cross-stitch, and most of all her family. She thought about her family all the time. She was a worrier and prayed for her loves constantly. She missed her sweetheart every day.  After Dad died, Mom learned to love and appreciate him so much more. She shared, many times, that she wished she’d let the little annoyances and differences go when he was still here. The beautiful part was, she loved him better each passing year and wanted to be with him more than ever. During her last week, she wanted me to be with her all the time. When she woke, she would call for me.  Sometimes, she would call, “Jenny?…Daddy?” I knew she was calling for my Dad, who she called “Daddy” or “Grandpa.” I know he’s been close by all these years, but especially during these last hard months. I felt like Mom was torn between her love for family here and family on the other side.  On a particularly hard day she said, “I bet Grandpa’s getting excited that I’m coming soon.”

Mom and I had talks about dying and what it meant. She knew I thought leaving this life and going to Heaven was the best thing ever. She said she didn’t know if she felt the same way about it because we all talked about Dad going on and continuing his work on the other side.  She didn’t want to go to work; she was so worn out.  I shared with her the scripture in Alma 40:11-12,

“…the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body…whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.”

She liked the sound of that. She had a firm faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Her grandparents taught her about Jesus when she was little, and she’d always believed in Him. She loved having pictures of Jesus around her, especially the last few weeks. She did several detailed cross stitch projects of the Savior. In the last one she completed, His hands reached out to her.  She asked us to hang that where she could see it from her bed. She loved Him and knew He loved her.

We were blessed to be able to say goodbye to Mom gradually, much in the same way we did with Dad. We were given the opportunity to serve her and show her how much she’s loved. She became very sweet and childlike during her last months. She was extra loving and grateful, telling us all how much she loved us. It was a sweet and tender blessing to see this side of her heart and feel that connection and closeness before she left us. Though there’s a giant hole in our lives where our Mom was, we’re thankful her pain and worldly cares are over. We’re joyful that Mom and Dad are no longer apart and can be together forever.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can live again with our families, when this life is over. It’s not the end. I know this is true—I’ve felt my sweet parents comforting me and lending me strength. Their love still lives on. We celebrated the gift of Christ’s atonement, resurrection, and eternal life as we saw mom’s body, but not her spirit, placed in the ground with Dad’s, to come forth again in the resurrection. Families can be together forever.

“He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” Isaiah 25:8

Early Saturday morning, February 8, 2020, I sat by my Mom’s side, holding her hand, speaking softly of eternity, and singing “Families Can be Together Forever,” as she moved from this earthly life of care to a far sweeter one with Jesus. Many times, in the last few weeks, we talked of my dad, waiting for his “Sweetie Face” on the other side. We discussed Mom’s parents, and other family members, and how happy they’d be to see her. We considered together the blessing of resting from her cares, worries, and responsibilities, which she took seriously. We spent time with my sweet sisters, and laughed and reminisced about the precious gift of family, and the cherished memories we hold on to forever. We gazed at the painting of Jesus by the shore, hung on the wall directly in front of her bed, and anticipated His loving embrace.

As my sisters and I made this sweet and sorrowful journey with our dear mother, I felt the Spirit teaching and strengthening me. I had so much to learn. I struggled, every day, nearly every minute, to give up the illusion of control, and give it all to the Lord. Because I was taking care of Mom at our home, and hospice nurses and aides only came a couple of times a week, I was responsible for most of Mom’s care. Her disease progressed so rapidly, we had a day or two of feeling we’d gotten the pain under control and were stable, then there’d be a dramatic change for the worse, that threw us into chaos and fear. I fiercely tried to control what was happening, to help her and ease her pain. I tried to find the right meds, the right position, the right equipment, and the right help to keep her from further suffering.

My will was for my elderly, fragile, dear mother not to suffer. My human thinking was that pain is “bad” and “senseless” and “unkind.” My limited understanding caused my constant pleading that she would be spared, protected, released. When those agonizing prayers weren’t immediately answered, I sometimes questioned if I was important to God, after all. I forgot, in the darkest moments, that giving up my will, and turning everything over to the One who loves me most and uses everything for my good, is the way to find peace. I talked to God all day, every day. He was the One I knew understood. And still I hurt. I questioned. I wanted God’s love to be manifested in MY will. Instead, His wisdom, His generosity, His mercy, were made manifest through my broken acceptance of HIS will.

Satan never gives up, never sleeps. He’s in those battles. He worked on me sleepless night after sleepless night. He knew I’d be weaker, more vulnerable to his unrelenting attacks, but I wasn’t defenseless. Besides my constant prayers, each day I was committed to studying the Book of Mormon. I’d torn out the page, in the front of the Come Follow Me manual, with the promises of prophets, about reading the Book of Mormon daily, and stuck it on my bookcase. I clung to those promises, and the many blessings and witnesses I’d received, throughout my life, of the love and kindness of my Savior. I fought back, armed with His word and my testimony, until I could hand over my will, fully, thankfully, to the One who already bore all the suffering my mom and I were enduring.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, I have peace and joy, along with the grief of temporary parting. His atonement and resurrection make it possible for families to be sealed together for eternity. I’ve had the sacred gift of being by the side of both my parents as they made the transition from this life to the next. I’ve felt the sweetness of death, as another birth, with similar pain, suffering, and hard work, followed by inexpressible joy and gratitude. I’ve felt the Spirit witness of life before, and life after, this one. I know I’ll see my mom and dad again, when it’s time, and they will be close by until then. I know my Redeemer lives and loves me. He never abandoned me, but stayed by my side, by Mom’s side, teaching, strengthening, and carrying it with us.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23

“Before we were born, we lived in a family with our exalted and eternal Heavenly Father. He ordained a plan that enables us to advance and progress to become like Him. He did it out of love for us. The purpose of the plan was to allow us the privilege of living forever as our Heavenly Father lives. This gospel plan offered us a life of mortality in which we would be tested. A promise was given that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, if we obeyed the laws and priesthood ordinances of the gospel, we would have eternal life, the greatest of all His gifts.” Henry B. Eyring

Lately I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking about our Heavenly Home. I’m certain we have one. We lived there before we came to earth, to get a body and gain experience, learn and be tested; and we’ll live there again after this life is over. When circumstances in my life are pushing me to my limits, I’m comforted by the promises in the scriptures about home—safe, loving home with Heavenly Parents and my brother, Jesus Christ.

“…Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body…are taken home to that God who gave them life.

“And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.” Alma 40:11-12

I’ve had sweet experiences in my life which strengthen my testimony of a life after this one, in Heavenly Father’s plan for His children. I’ve felt comfort, help, and messages of love from family members who have left this earth life. In the temple, I’ve felt my Grandpa’s acceptance of baptismal covenants and other ancestors’ gratitude for marriage sealings and other ordinances, performed by proxy. During special, sacred family moments, I’ve felt the presence of family members no longer with us. All my experiences with eternal family ties help me see death as a temporary, though heart wrenching, goodbye.

“When families are functioning as designed by God, the relationships found therein are the most valued of mortality. The plan of the Father is that family love and companionship will continue into the eternities. Being one in a family carries a great responsibility of caring, loving, lifting, and strengthening each member of the family so that all can righteously endure to the end in mortality and dwell together throughout eternity.” Robert D. Hales

On Christmas Day we lost my mom’s cousin, Pam, a dear friend, to cancer. She was Mom’s beach buddy and a funny, brave, optimistic example of living life to its fullest. We were sad to say goodbye, even temporarily.  It’s also my Dad’s and my Grandpa’s birthdays this week. I miss both of these loving gentlemen. Dad’s been gone almost 6 years, and I think of him all the time, especially since Mom is struggling with her health. I know he sees; he helps; he still loves us.

Mom has had back pain on and off for many years. She has arthritis and doesn’t get around much, and her back pain has been worsening with age. In the last couple of months, the pain increased, almost daily, until it was hard for her to move much at all. Our hearts hurt to see her suffering, as we all struggled to get her help and find answers. She had tests done, which showed some fine fractures and multiple small lesions in her back. One morning, while I was at the temple, and my sister was with Mom, she developed serious pain in her side. It was so intense, my sister had to call 911, and Mom went to the ER.  I was given a message at the temple and met them at the hospital, along with my other sister. The three of us sat together, impatiently waiting to be allowed to go in with Mom. It was a sad and frightening reminder of our journey with Dad, several years ago. The myriad of unknowns. The watching a loved one suffer. The deepening certainty that life was changing drastically for us all.  It was also a reminder of the strength and love of our family bond. The comfort that we weren’t alone in this. The knowledge that we were a team—a good team—and would do whatever had to be done, together.

After more scans, they found more lesions, including a large one on her liver. Her side pain eased, and with help to control pain, we were able to get her home, where she desperately wanted to be. The next step was a PET scan, to determine if the lesions were cancerous, as suspected, but because of her pain, and anxiety of enclosed spaces, the experience was frightening and miserable for all of us. We quickly, shockingly became aware that this was just the beginning of our fearful and difficult journey as we learned that Mom has stage IV cancer, in her colon, her liver, and her bones.

This is all new and sudden. We still have so many unanswered questions, most of which will remain unanswered. She’ll have a biopsy to determine the type of cancer, and we’ll learn a little more of what we’re facing, but largely, this is a walk through darkness, with only the light of our faith and hope to guide us.

“The fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ brings great comfort in stressing times of mortality. It brings light where there is darkness and a calming influence where there is turmoil. It gives eternal hope where there is mortal despair.” Robert D. Hales

In the days since the ER, our thoughts have turned to what matters most, with an eternal perspective that gives us such comfort and strength. I’m humbled and overwhelmed with love and gratitude as I feel the enormity of the gifts of our Savior, Jesus Christ—His atonement and resurrection—more deeply and personally. Because of Him, all goodbyes are temporary. He lives. He loves us. He will be our light.

“The knowledge and understanding of the doctrine that God lives and Jesus is the Christ and that we have an opportunity to be resurrected and live in the presence of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, makes it possible to endure otherwise tragic events. This doctrine brings a brightness of hope into an otherwise dark and dreary world. It answers the simple questions of where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going.” Robert D. Hales

Each year at Easter time, I’ve tried to make it a time of study and reflection about the last week of the Savior’s life. Many years ago, I made a book of Easter week reading for my family.  I went through all four gospels and tried to combine everything Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John wrote into a fairly comprehensive study of that week.  I added pictures and music.  We read together what Jesus taught His apostles and followers when He knew His time with them was nearly over. We went with them to the triumphal entry, where they all waved palm branches and praised the Lord.  We were upset, right along with Jesus, at those defiling the temple, and then moved to tears by His gentle healing after the harsh cleansing.  We asked ourselves, as He questioned His apostles, if we, too, would go away, and answered like Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go?” We were heartbroken by His suffering and jubilant at His resurrection.

One year, we took our Easter week study with us on our Disneyland trip.  Before we went to the park, my children knew we would do our reading and singing.  Hopefully, even if their excited anticipation of Disneyland distracted them, they knew it was important enough to me to gather them for the study time, even on vacation.  

“And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.” 2 Nephi 25:26

We have a similar tradition for Christmas, to gather together for the Christmas story in Luke, before rushing downstairs to find stockings and gifts. When my oldest son was on his mission, he told me he was thankful for all the times we’d studied the last week of Jesus’s life, but that he didn’t know nearly as much about the rest of His life.  Because of that, I changed my Easter and Christmas reading to one of the four gospels in December and March or April, depending on when Easter falls, so we learn about Christ’s life and teachings more evenly, and not just His birth and last week.

When my oldest daughter was almost three years old, she got the flu, quickly becoming dehydrated. She began to lose coordination and control of her body.  I was terrified and didn’t know what was happening. I took her to the hospital and they admitted her.  They wanted to take blood and told me I couldn’t come with them because they liked to keep the unpleasant stuff separate so the child didn’t associate it with the mother. I was young, and believed doctors knew best.  I let them take her for a few torturous minutes. She needed fluids and they set up her IV and got her all settled, then I was able to stay with her the rest of the time she was there.  I was so scared and all alone, until my parents and husband could get away from work to come. At night, I slept on a cot in her room. They didn’t bring me food (I was eight-and-a-half months pregnant), so I had to run down to get something at the cafeteria, asking the nurse to sit with her for a minute. I hated to leave her for even 10 minutes.  After a couple of days of antibiotics for an ear infection and an IV to rehydrate, she recovered and returned to her sweet, bright, happy self. We were thrilled to get home to her little sister and our beds! But I couldn’t rest. I kept remembering, seeing her when she couldn’t hold the popsicle I’d given her or talk coherently. I had severe anxiety at home, and my brain kept playing that scene over and over, reliving my panic.  As I prayed, trying to find peace, I had the impression that my pain and fear at watching my little daughter so sick, was a tiny glimpse of the agony my Heavenly Father endured watching His Son suffer and die for each of us.  I knew my experience was miniscule in comparison, but as a mother seeing my child so ill, my pain and distress were overwhelming. I understood a little better how much Heavenly Father loves me, and all His other children, to allow Jesus to go through all He did to atone for our sins and carry our grief.

Christ’s life was all about love.  He taught the apostles, by lovingly washing their feet, that the greatest shall be the servant. He prayed the most beautiful prayer for us—all who believe in Him. He told His apostles that He wouldn’t leave them comfortless, and likewise gives each of us the opportunity to receive the Holy Ghost, if we choose. Every action, every healing, every word, every drop of blood showed His infinite love for us.

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.” Isaiah 53:4-5

My mom is the only member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in her family. She joined the church when I was 10 years old. Her parents and siblings were exposed to many of the teachings of the church through our family but weren’t interested in hearing more. After my grandpa’s death, my parents, my husband, and I went to the temple to do the baptism for him, by proxy, offering him the opportunity to accept that ordinance if he wanted to. I stood by the baptismal font while my husband performed the baptism, with my dad acting as proxy for Grandpa. At the moment Dad came up out of the water, I felt an overwhelming feeling of the presence of my grandpa.  I’d never felt that before, and tears flowed for both me and my husband as we felt strongly that Grandpa was there and accepted the gift of baptism we offered him. It was a tender mercy to feel such a powerful witness that there is life after this one, and through the atonement of Jesus Christ, we are given the gift of repentance and resurrection.

Easter is a celebration of faith, life, and renewal through Jesus Christ. Hallelujah—Praise the Lord!

“We bear testimony, as His duly ordained Apostles—that Jesus is the Living Christ, the immortal Son of God. He is the great King Immanuel, who stands today on the right hand of His Father. He is the light, the life, and the hope of the world. His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come. God be thanked for the matchless gift of His divine Son.” The Living Christ