My Plea

I feel weird. 

If you were here, I would run into your arms and not say a word. I think I would cry. But another part of me believes I wouldn’t cry. I would just feel peace. I would soak up the the relief I would feel to be in your arms again. I would stay there forever. I would beg you not to send me back, not to send me out, and just plain not to send me away. I would beg you to please just let me stay. 

I lied. I would cry. And I would beg. 

But you would love me. You would sit there and hold me until I finished crying. And when I was done, you would sit me down and tell me you love me. You would tell me that you wished I didn’t have to go. But you would somehow remind me of a deal we made. You would re-explain the plan again and somehow after hearing it from your mouth again, I would know again, that it was the right thing to do… again. 

And I would cry again. And I would submit again. Because I do love you. And HF, I do trust you. And I am flying more blind here than I ever have in my life. So maybe that’s what this chapter is all about. It’s almost as if I hear it from your mouth. “Elizabeth, I’m taking the driver’s seat. You have to trust me.” 

And I do. But I never ever could have understood how much this would hurt. I don’t know why this hurts so much. 

HF, I miss you so much. Some days I don’t know if I love you more or miss you more. But writing offers me clarity. I miss you more. And I wish I could say I loved you more. But I miss the peace and the comfort I found in your presence. Even still, I’m all about selfishly needing what I want instead of selflessly affording you what you deserve- which is my love and loyalty. 

Please forgive me. Not because I sin every day and think bad things every day and fail to be a perfect disciple every day, but because I fail you every day. I apologize. And with true repentance I would offer that I won’t ever do it again. But HF, you have this very imperfect daughter here in this imperfect world and this imperfect body trying to perfectly impress you. 

I’m so sorry I’m not more. I’m so sorry I’m not stronger. But I love you. I love you with whatever crass notion of love I have and can give. So will you please accept this widow’s mite of an offering. Will you please hear this prayer, of all of the prayers I have offered here? 

Please know that I love you. Please know that I miss you. Please know that I try for you. 

And if any of this means even the smallest of things to you, the god of the cosmos, even the god of everything that I know and everything that I am, please send me help. Please send ministering angels. Please send friends. Please send love. Please send the spirit. Please send miracles. Please apply the healing power of the atonement to my life, to my choices, to my body, and to my soul. Please fill the gaps, plug the holes, and make up the difference. Please love me. Please help me. Please protect me. Please provide for me. Please remember me. Of all things…. please remember me. 

I am trying. I know it’s the most pathetic of attempts but I am trying. 

Please. 

And even though I am ending this way instead of commencing this way, please know how grateful I am for all of your help, providence, miracles, and love. Please understand how grateful I am for all of your generosity. Please feel of my thanksgiving. I pay for groceries and don’t flinch at the price of them. That is because of you. I call home on a fancy laptop. That is because of you. I sit in the best flat money can buy for students, because of you. I have this body and this mind and these opportunities because of you. I am grateful for them… and for YOU. 

Thank you for your love. Thank you for the redeeming power of the atonement. Thank you for the comfort and guidance of the Holy Ghost. A thousand times, thank you for a million things. Thank you.