She thought she was dying...and she was okay with that

Missionary Girl writes me faithfully every week.  She tells me a lot of stuff.  But, she doesn't tell me everything, and I get that.  I get that there are stories that she will save to share with me only after she's home and safe...because she knows who I am.  The freaker outer, the worry wart, the worst possible case imaginer.  That's me.

Well, to make my Mother's Day Skype especially memorable, she shared one of those stories with me. 

Missionary Girl had been sick around Christmas time.  She had a horrible case of the flu and no mama to take care of her.  She said she had thrown up so many times she was getting worried.  Sometime during the  night, she decided to take a bath.  This is when she noticed her legs were blue...completely blue.  In her feverish haze she wondered if she should call for her companion and go to the hospital.  She was concerned about possible amputation...because she felt horrible...and you know, her her legs were blue.

You should know that by this point in the conversation I was teary eyed.  Obviously she was fine, she was there on the screen telling me the story with two arms and two legs.  I just felt sad.  Sad that she was so sick and I hadn't even known.  But there was more to the story...

She said she thought maybe she was dying...

and she was okay with that.  

She pictured returning to her heavenly home and was a little bit excited at the thought.  But, bless her little heart, then she thought of me and how sad I would be if she didn't come home from her mission and decided she would go to the hospital after all, if she woke up in the morning!    

Well, she did wake up in the morning, feeling a little better than the night before.  When she felt well enough to start moving around her room a little bit, she noticed her white socks boot socks she had worn the day before.  They were also blue.  She picked them up and it suddenly dawned on her.  She had also worn brand new navy blue leggings the day before, and they turned everything blue! She would be keeping her legs!

He eyes were twinkling with laughter as she shared the story with us and we all had a good chuckle and talked about other things.  But later in the day I was dissecting this conversation in my head, as I am known to do.  My daughter thought she was dying...and she was okay with that.  She was calm.  She was at peace with where she was in her life.   There was no panic or focus on regrets.  She was accepting of the fact that this might be it.

I will be honest and say that my natural man did not like that one bit.  I had reprimanded her (nicely) for not getting to a doctor or calling her companion for help.  I had told her that, "if in the future you think you might be dying, please seek immediate medical attention!"  She said she would.  But I was still a little bit sorrowful about this part of our conversation.   

Then I had this thought, which I am sure did not come from me.

Your daughter is comfortable with who she is and where she is in her life...high fever or not.  She loves her Heavenly Father and His Son and is anxious to see them again.  She is a happy person who is working hard to do what she feels is right, and she has faith.

So I have been thinking about how I want to feel when my final moments draw close.  If I am aware they are coming, I want them to be filled with peace.  I want to know I have done my best.  I want the people I love to know that I love them, because of they way I have treated them.  I want to not regret the things I have said, the time I have spent, the life I have lived.  I want to be sure I have laughed and loved  and shared and felt.  I want to be known as someone who believed in and followed the Savior. I want to be someone who shared the gospel. I want to be confident I have taught my children how to return to their Father in Heaven.  I want to truly be prepared to meet my Maker.  I want to kneel before Him and have Him be proud of the woman I have become.  

It will take a lifetime to prepare for this, my lifetime, no matter how long that is.  I hope it's a long way off; but when my time comes, I hope I can be okay with that.