Friday, September 2, 2011

mosiah 18:9

Tuesday night I was making cookies.  I hadn't had a bite of chocolate since my birthday, and enough was enough was enough, I didn't care if it was after 9:30, I was making myself some cookies.

I mixed up the butter and sugar, added the eggs.  I reached into the cupboard and pulled out what I thought was the vanilla.  I measured out the first teaspoon and added into the mixture.  I thought it looked a little dark.  Then I added the second teaspoon and as I was pouring that in I realized it most definitely was not vanilla extract, it was maple.

I let out a cry of frustration over my rookie mistake which my husband heard from the other room.  He asked what had happened and I told him.  He laughed it off.  I on the other hand started to cry.  Really cry. Tears were running down my cheeks.

He heard that too, and came into the kitchen to find out why the heck in the world was I shedding tears over ruined cookies.

As I was dumping the mixture down the drain and proceeding to start the task of making the cookies from scratch again, I told him of the boy from the news I had seen the day before.  The one from Auburn where I had grown up.  He was traveling home on Sunday and a tire on the van he was in had blown out causing an accident.  Tucker Johnson died because he wasn't wearing his seat belt.  Next week he would have started his senior year of high school.

Earlier that day, I had called my mom to see if she had heard about the accident.  She hadn't, but immediately remembered that Tucker had been in one of my dad's Seminary classes before my dad had passed away and that Tucker's note was one of the ones written by a student that really stood out.
As she looked for it, she told me that Tucker's own mom had died in a car accident about 6 years ago while visiting family in Utah.  She found the note and read it to me over the phone:

"Dear Sister May, I'm sorry about Brother May. He was a great teacher and we all love him dearly. I know how it feels. I lost my Mom five years ago. Over time things have gotten much better. One Scripture I look to for comfort when I need it is, Enos 1:27 which says, 'And I soon go to the place of my rest, which is with my Redeemer; for I know that in Him I shall rest. And I rejoice in the day when my mortal shall put on immortality, and shall stand before him; then shall I see his face with pleasure, and he will say unto me, ye blessed, there is a place prepared for you in the mansions of my Father. Amen.' By this scripture I know my mom has returned with our Savior and I know Brother May is also with Him this day. Sincerely, Tucker Johnson"

Me ruining the batch of cookies was just a trigger release of the emotions I had been building up about the car accident, hearing kind words about my dad, knowing what that family is going through from losing a loved one. At the time he wrote that, Tucker was maybe 15 years old.  The calm faith that that boy had at that age is astounding.  And then for him to use the testimony he obviously had of the Plan of Happiness to help lend comfort to another grieving family shows what kind of person he was.  I've never met him.  But I can add my testimony to his, and that of Enos', that Tucker has found his place of rest with his Redeemer and is rejoicing once again with his mom in heaven.


SarahJane said...

Thanks for this. My mom had mentioned Tucker's passing, but I'd never met him either. This really helps me know who he is and how his life touched others.

Rae said...

I'm reading this while Chris is at Tucker's services. What a powerful testimony from both of you.

Taking Chris to work several times a week, I get to drive past the seminary building. I always think of your dad- of his testimony and kindness.

Good luck with your September. I hate it when Chris goes back to work, hope your kiddos are adjusting to it well!

Jolie said...

Thanks for sharing this touching story.

Maytribe said...

Love you, Ray Ray

SSToone said...

This is fantastic. I surely hope you post it on his memorial FB page wall. People need to read it.

I wish I could have attended his funeral. Still makes me hoppin' mad at the blankity-blank rancher in Northern Utah who was willfully non-compliant in mending his fence and his cow got out. That family surely has gone through a lot as has yours!

~j. said...

Beautiful. Thank you for sharing your experience(s).

The Dillon 6 said...

beautiful! you're amazing.