Christmastime, again

Hey Georgia

It's been a while.  Yesterday I found a picture of you and Cami from Haleigh's wedding.  It was in a book of Christmas music, of all things.  Strange, since Haleigh's wedding was in October.  Funny how you tend to show up around Christmas for me.

Well, I have some news.  I've been called to serve as a counselor in my ward's Young Women's presidency.  I'm overwhelmed, but excited.  I feel a deep responsibility to show the young women in my influence what it means to be a woman of faith.

I'll be teaching them a lesson in January on the new theme for the year, which is "Ask of God, Ask in Faith."  I'm collecting stories from women of faith, asking them about a time in their life when one of their "Asks" was answered.  (What would your answer be?)

Though I've asked Heavenly Father many things on many different occasions, the following is what came to my mind as what I need to share with the Young Women.  I just wanted to share it here for you, and those that love you.

Merry Christmas,
Brit

When I was 21 years old, my dearest friend was killed in a bicycle/truck accident.  I loved this girl like a sister, and depended on her friendship and example.  My relationship with her helped forge my testimony and bring me closer to my Savior, so her death was heart-wrenching.  I remember that I got a call from a mutual friend of ours on a Wednesday night, telling me that she had passed away at the hospital.  The phone slipped out of my hand as I dropped to my knees on the kitchen floor and sobbed for what seemed like forever.   At this time, I was living away from home; my friends and family were in Utah while I was at school in Ohio.  I felt alone and abandoned and thought grief would consume me.  I cried in prayer that night, asking God to send me comfort and understanding.  I had never felt so hurt, never felt such anguish, never knew a heart could hurt so badly.

When my home teachers from my singles' ward found out what had happened, they made an appointment to come visit me.  When I opened the door on the day of their arrival, I broke down in to tears again.  They sat with me and listened to me tell of my friend, listened to me wonder at the justice of it all, wonder how God could possibly have let this happen.  One home teacher, Kimball, opened his scriptures to Mosiah and read chapter 18:8-9.  After he finished reading, he simply said, "We are hear to mourn with you.  We don't have answers, we don't know what words to say, but we want you to know you're not alone in your grief."   I felt God answer my prayers for comfort through Kimball's ministering.  This was a great lesson to me about reaching out to comfort and succor others; you don't have to have answers, you just have to be willing to feel what they feel, and let them know they aren't alone.

My second home teacher, Spencer, offered to give me a priesthood blessing of comfort.  In that blessing, I was promised that I would be met at the veil by my recently deceased friend when my time on earth was over.  Looking forward to that reunion has anchored me through many hardships in my life. When other things seemed to be falling around me, when I lost faith in other things or other people or even myself, I could grab on to that promise that I'd be met by Georgia at the veil.  I strive to live up to her example, strive to live worthy of her meeting me at the veil and walking with me into the presence of our Savior.  I feel God has given me at least some kind of understanding through this promise. Though I miss my friend so dearly, I use her death to make sure my life has meaning, to make sure I live the life of a true disciple of Christ, to make sure I treat others well (especially those I love) because you never know which day will be their last.

You Were Remembered Today

Hi friend

It's been a while.
But just because I haven't written, doesn't mean you're not on my mind.
I wanted you to know how often, and how lovingly, you're remembered; every day by so many people.

You were remembered last night as I looked up in the choir loft and saw your sister singing.  Her smile reminds me of yours.
It made me remember your beautiful voice.

You were remembered last week when your bother and his family came to my house for my daughter's recital.
It made me remember the tone and love and goodness that always filled the room when you performed.  I could feel you smiling down on my little Aliya Georgia, as she played her heart out.

You were remembered a few weeks ago when September 25th came around again.  I brought pink and cream roses from the Quarter Notes to your grave and wept.
It made me remember how fleeting this life is, and how crucial it is that we treasure the time we're given with those we love.

You were remembered last month when I sat watching your dear mother share her testimony about the Savior and His goodness with millions of people all over the world.
It made me remember her words at your funeral.  "This is not my plan for Georgia, but it is God's plan for her.  And because it's His plan, I will accept it with faith."

You were remembered today as I thought about our friend Cami, on her birthday.
It made me remember the special bond the two of you have, and how blessed we are to know that relationships with the ones we love are eternal.

You were remembered yesterday, as I sat at my daughter's violin lesson and noticed, again, that charcoal sketch of you, tenderly tucked in the bookshelf of your violin teacher, overseeing the teaching of hundreds of violin students.
It made me remember that everyone experiences heartache and grief, and that it's our choice as to how we move forward with faith.

And you are remembered every day, every moment in which there is love and compassion and joy.

Thinking of you,
Brit

Because of Him

Easter is a lovely time of year.
New blossoms on the trees, the sun returns, the life awakens after a long and cold winter.

Hope simply is in the air.

And I just want you to know, dear Georgia, that Easter is real to me because of you.

Because of Him, we will be reunited.
Because of Him, I have hope that we will embrace again.
Because of Him, I know our friendship is eternal.

Happy Easter, dear friend.

A Tribute To Georgia

Last year I told Kate that I would put together a video of the balloon releases from around the world, and finally, one year after the 10th anniversary of her death, I got it finished.  It took me so long because every time I'd try to work on it, my emotions would resurface and I would just cry and cry.  Happy tears, sad tears, tears of longing - so I had to keep postponing it.  As I kept working on it, though, it just didn't feel good enough.  Even though it's finished, it still doesn't feel good enough.  But it is my offering to her, and to all of you - however you knew her.

I know there are some clips and photos that might not be included on this video.  If I missed, you please let me know and send me what you have.  I can always add it in later.  But Kate and I wanted to get this out TODAY, because today is Georgia's day.  And we wanted to celebrate her life, to do something special for her.

I thought it fitting to end the video with the singing of "Beautiful Savior" at her gravesite.  As you watch this, you probably will mourn somewhat again.  But the final words that were sung that night one year ago were "He makes the sorrowing spirit sing!"  How true those words are!  I hope you all feel united in love as you see remembrances of Georgia all around the world, and feel your sorrowing spirit sing!

Love to you all-

Haleigh Vance

I've Come Home

Today I had occasion to attend a reunion for some of the senior missionary couples who served in Nauvoo, many of which served during the summer of 2000 with Georgia.  After lunch, we were favored with a performance by some of the former Young Performing Missionaries from 1999, 2000, 2001 and 2009.  (I was there because my husband, a YPM from Georgia's year, performed with them.)

As a side note: most of those YPM's are now middle-aged performing missionaries, or "MAPM's" as one of them puts it!

As those YPM's performed, I sat in the audience and could feel the spirit and peace of Nauvoo washing over my soul.  I could just picture Georgia up there with them in her pink dress, with her long brown hair pulled back out of her face, and her eyes sparkling as she sang and smiled; testifying with her music and her voice of God's goodness and love.

My husband performed a song called "I've Come Home"; one of my favorite songs from the show not only because of the way Matt sings it, but because of the words.

Listening to him sing made me think of Georgia in her Heavenly Home, watching over and guiding us with her love, peace, and eternal perspective.

"I"ve come home;
Now at last I feel that I've come home.
And if home is where the heart is,
Clearly, it is here.  I am at home.

"I've come home;
Now at last I feel that I've come home;
And tho worlds away from all I've known,
I'm not alone.
I have come home."

I've been thinking this summer about how Georgia's departure created this certain space in my heart; space which, eleven years ago, I would have described as aching and sad and grieving.  But as time goes on, I'm seeing that that space is being filled with friendships and love from people whose lives she also touched.  It's like that space in my heart is reserved for a special kind of love and friendship with people like me who miss her.

I find myself drawn to people who knew her and loved her as I did.  I watch for her two siblings at choir rehearsal.  My family regularly gathers with the family of another YPM who served with her in Nauvoo.  We have switched doctors so that her brother is now our pediatrician.  Yesterday at violin group class I spent the entire time talking with her sister-in-law.  At music camp, I make it a point to check in with one of her violin-playing nieces, who I've kept tabs on for a few years now and who, though half my age, I count as one of my dear friends.  And then when her lovely mother stopped me in the hall to say hello and I love you; well, that was icing on the cake!

And I see God's great mercy in this: that He is filling that space in my heart, which I once viewed as void but now see as abundant to overflowing, with more love and more friendships than it would have otherwise had room for.

So thank you, Georgia, for giving me these beautiful people in my life.  For sending them to me to buoy me up and inspire me with rememberances and stories of you.  I only hope I do the same for them, in my own small way.  I miss you every day, but I'm not alone in feeling that way; and that is the beauty of it.  We have been brought together by love; and what better thing to have in common?

"...And my pathway is sure.
I've come home."

We Do Not Have To Be Old To Be Great

I was reading a conference talk tonight by Spencer W. Kimball. He was talking about the church's 150th anniversary, and after reading this quote I immediately thought of Georgia.

"Just as an individual’s life can often make up in quality what it lacks in length of years, so The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has compressed into 150 years many significant accomplishments. We don’t have to be old to be great."

Georgia compressed so very much into 21 years or so - what she lacked in time she made up for in quality. 

She didn't have to be old to be great. 

Christmas Angel

Oh Georgia, you always know how to touch my heart!

I think I am not the only one who considers you an angel in my life, someone who is watching over me, caring for me, guiding me in my life's decisions.  I have felt your nudge, your comfort, your presence at crucial points in my life, and I thank you for continuing to be such an important, positive influence on me.

I think of you whenever anyone mentions "heavenly hosts singing Allelujah"...which happens alot this time of year.

As I was putting away the Christmas decorations the other day, I came across a box that I haven't opened for over ten years.  My first instinct was to throw it away, because I certainly have enough Christmas decorations, and if I hadn't opened it in a decade, why ever would I need it now?  But my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to open it.  Inside the box, among such kitchy gems as ceramic Santas and porcelain reindeer, I found a tiny wooden angel mounted to a letter written on cardstock paper.  It was from you, dated Christmas of 1997.  I cannot tell you how it warmed my heart to read a letter that had been handwritten by you to me, to be reminded again of our friendship and love for each other, and to realize that that friendship truly is eternal.  (I also loved that the letter starts out "Dear Haleigh..." and then Haleigh's name is scratched out and mine written there instead, with a goofy "sorry" scribbled next to it!)

On the other side of the letter was a scripture I don't usually associate with Christmas, but most certainly do associate with you.  "For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways."  Psalms 91:11

Thanks, Georgia, for fulfilling your charge so beautifully.

Merry Christmas.