I’ve been thinking this morning about how good it has always felt to me to go outside. I don’t think I’ve changed in all the years. If I can play outside, everything gets better fast. If there’s nothing great to look at on the ground, the sky is always interesting. The trees are wonderful, dead or alive. Every grass, every weed presents wonderful patterns, interesting designs. Every bug is Star Wars material.
May 4, 1998. Dear Nathan: [The] idea of testimony once seemed complicated to me and now seems much simpler. Sometimes, it seems as simple as gratitude--the ability to acknowledge divine purpose and order in all creation with a full and thankful heart--the joy of being alive, running, swimming, seeing, hearing, loving--the joy of seashells and stones, of colored fruit from the brown earth--rainbows in the air.
January 4, 1999. The Lord has provided so much for us. In our abundance, we have become thoughtless--even offensive. . . . It seems to me we have two duties: to remember the source of our blessings and to share them.
Later, after the ordeal of Mama’s physical death, the cold questions crept into my mind: What if it’s all a story? What if this death is really all there is? What if all that was my mother has come to a final end? What a leaden, miserable feeling it was. Thankfully, it was brief.