Three truths that helped me when I knew my angel mother was near when I couldn’t feel her.
It was around 4:30AM Sunday morning. I had been awake for nearly 24 hours. I was sitting by my dad’s bedside, holding his hand. We were alone.
He’d been sleeping since Friday morning, resting to prepare for his own passing. My brothers and I had known it was coming. Dad had been on hospice for over a year. Still, even the expected can be unexpecting.
Three of my brothers had gone to their homes to rest. My oldest brother, Bob, stayed with me in Dad’s apartment that night. In the early hours, when it seemed Dad’s labored breathing had found a stable pattern, Bob went into the other room to get some rest.
For a short while, it was just me and Dad in the empty room.
But. . . it wasn’t empty.
I and others had been told through priesthood blessings and promptings that my mom and other family members would be there. I believed they were, though I didn’t see them or feel them.
After an hour of reading old letters and scriptures to my sleeping dad, I was rejoined by Bob. He shared that he could, indeed, feel family members nearby. Mom, who had passed away five years before, Grandma and Grandpa Steed. Grandma and Grandpa Parker. And more.
I was surprised that, instead of peace, I felt frustration. Mom was right there. Right next to me And I couldn’t feel or see her.
It didn’t seem fair. In fact, at one point, I spoke out loud to Mom that I thought it was, indeed, quite rude that she wouldn’t talk to me.
As I sat by Dad’s side, I prayed and asked God to let me see or feel Mom or my grandparents. He had the power to open my spiritual eyes. The veil was thin. I knew He could do it. I just wanted to see Mom one more time.
Then an unexpected answer came. She’s here, but not here for you.
With that answer came the understanding of a few important and healing truths:
- Heavenly Father knows what we need. There have been many times in my life when the veil as thin, where I had felt the presence of those who’ve past. So, why not now? wouldn’t this be the moment the veil would part? I’m holding my dying father’s hand and my angel mom is standing right next to me…wouldn’t that be the time to feel her? But, as much as I wanted to feel my Mom’s presence, it wasn’t what God knew I needed. He was already giving me what I needed—the strength and energy to stay up all night with Dad. Loving family members to experience this with. A sense of optimism and even joy for my dad and his upcoming reunion with Mom. I had been given so much, all that I needed to be there in that moment.
- Not everything is about me. This revelation didn’t hit warm and fuzzy at first. I was losing my dad. That felt very much about me. But, as I pondered things, my mind was opened to the reality that there are so many other lives affected by that moment: My dad, who was straddling two worlds. My mom who’d been waiting for years to hold him again. His parents who raised him and missed him. My brother Bob and my other brothers who had taken such good care of Dad since Mom had passed. My mom wasn’t there for me because this moment wasn’t about just me.
- Just because I couldn’t see or feel something (or someone) does not mean it isn’t real. This is so important in a religion that places a high emphasis on feeling the Spirit. Yes—that is one of the ways God communicates. But He communicates through the scriptures, prophets, thoughts, ideas, music, and more. I had already been told by my Father in Heaven that Mom would be near. Just because I couldn’t feel her did not make her presence any less real.
This was, perhaps, the greatest revelation for me in that moment—the truth something can be very real even when I can’t see or feel it.
This truth stretched beyond that small room to the rest of my life.
I thought of the darker times in my life when I felt alone and wondered if God was really there. He was, whether I felt Him or not. I thought of the times when I searched for His answers to my prayers and couldn’t see them. But He did answer my prayers, when I saw them or not. I thought of the times I wrestled to understand a doctrine or live a principle that was difficult. But, those doctrines and principles were still true.
My understanding that God and His gifts do not dictate the reality or power of those gifts was liberating.
It was okay that I couldn’t feel Mom in that moment; That didn’t change the fact that I believed she was there. And knowing she was there for my Dad brought me great peace.
In that moment, understanding these three truths was what I needed more than feelings what I had wanted to feel. This was enough for me. In that moment, I didn’t want any more.
One of the beautiful ironies of heaven is that once we, ourselves, step into the world of peace, it is then that God will sometimes offer an added tender mercy.
Not too long after my realizations, I was still by my dad’s side, holding his hand when, for just a brief moment, I felt it. I felt her. More specifically, her hand on my shoulder. Mom was there, right behind me.
It happened in a flash. No longer than the one or two seconds for her to tell me she was there. Then, the veil closed.
Through wet eyes, I told my brother. He smiled and said, “It looks like you got want you wanted all along.”
I did. But so much more. I felt Mom, yes. And it was a gift. But perhaps the greater gift was that, because of God’s gentle teaching and love, I didn’t need to feel her.
This greater gift has helped me in the five months since my parent’s reunited in heaven. Aside from a couple of sweet moments, I haven’t felt either of them near me. And, I’ve been okay with it. Good even. Because that doesn’t change the fact that I know they are alive and well, and perhaps have even been at my side, helping in unseen and unfelt ways. I’ve been good because I know even more know that God gives me—gives us—what we need when we need it. Even when we can’t feel Him, He is near, He is real, and He is ever attended to our needs.
