"I Will Not Take These Things For Granted"

My recent vow/mantra of not wishing away our final year of law school (see "My New Mantra" post) was reinforced profoundly this week when Grant called me Monday morning with some sad news. An attorney in Utah who had been a friend and mentor to Grant was killed in a car accident over the weekend while traveling to Southern Utah for a family vacation. I knew the man only from things Grant had told me about him -- that Grant had really admired him, that he was a Willamette Law School graduate, that he was a man of integrity, a wise and effective attorney, and that he was among the attorneys who was kindly showing Grant the ropes. As I have for many of Grant's professional associates whom I've never officially met, but hear about as Grant tells me about his budding career, I developed a gratitude for Nyal Bodily and other men and women like him, who, with perhaps no personal gain, aren't too busy, too important, or too talented to take the time to help "the new guy." From the sounds of it, this was a good man, who, perhaps illogically to us in the here and now, was taken too soon, or, in the words of his beautifully written obituary, "before [his family's] hearts were ready." And as such situations sometimes do, this one hit too close to home.

Like I said, I didn't know Grant's friend, but it was far too easy to put ourselves in the position of his family. Nyal was raised in Orem, attended Grant's same high school, and married the "love of his life." They had gone to law school at Willamette, got their career off to a good start in Provo, and, if their financial situation was anything like ours will be, probably paid off their whopping debt not too long ago. They had a young family, and in many ways, I imagine they were just beginning their family's promising life together. He was good at what he did; he was good to his family. The comparisons to my own life were a little haunting; like I told Grant, "that's us in ten years." So when Grant called me with the news, it was very easy to feel the gravity of the situation and to feel a profound loss for a family I had never met. In our prayers that night, I choked up as I prayed for that family, that they would be comforted, that they would have courage to face the days ahead.

When Grant called me to tell me what had happened, he sheepishly apologized after he'd recounted the events, and said, "Sorry I called just to tell you that." But I'm glad he did. Although I did not have much to say, I was thankful that Grant thought first to call me for whatever comfort I could give. Because this was one of those "wake-up call" moments that make you want to cling to those you love -- to just hear their voice, to know they're still there. To be comforted that for now all is well, that you are safe, that you are healthy. I remember feeling similarly across the ocean in Spain when I learned of the events of 9/11. I remember one of my sisters telling me that the only thing she could think to do that day was to huddle her little family together and hold and hug her husband and children. Sometimes I think we need to witness tragedies, even if from afar, to recognize how safe, healthy, and good our lives are, at least for today.

All the more reason for me not to wish away my life, even the hard stuff. Because you never know when it could all change or be taken from you. So for today I'm happy that my husband is still here, that together we're working on finishing up school so Grant can have a career that will support our family. I'm happy that we're all healthy, that no disease or illness is pressing upon us as it does for so many. I'm happy that I have a little boy who is physically well and developing right on track. I'm happy that I have the gospel, that my life has meaning, purpose, and direction. I'm happy to have a place to live and food to eat. I'm happy to have two sets of parents and siblings who love and suport me, who would do anything for me if I just asked. At a time in my life when it would be easy to focus on how little we have, there are moments, even if they come as the result of hearing tragic news, when I realize just how much I do have. So today, and hopefully always, I will not take these things for granted.