"Have ye walked, keeping yourselves blameless before God? Could ye say, if ye were called to die at this time, within yourselves, that ye have been sufficiently humble?" Alma 5:27
This scripture has gone through my mind so many times over the past year. Although he wouldn't say it, I know Charlie exemplifies this scripture. No, he was not perfect, he made mistakes - he was even known to pout occasionally. But on a day-to-day basis, in all he did, he tried with everything in him to live as Heavenly Father would want him to. Even with his busy schedule, he spent a lot of time in prayer - you knew he was truly conversing with the Lord. His old set of scriptures were well-worn - no matter how tired or hurried, he always spent time reading them, feasting upon them. He read the Ensign cover-to-cover, and would listen to conference talks over and over again. He didn't just hear the words, he went out and did the words. He would go home teaching instead of taking a nap, he would call to check on members of the ward, to see if there was anything he could do. He baked cookies for less active members (and non-members too), then dropped by with them, just to let people know he cared. I can't begin to express how much he loved the temple. He worked in the temple every Tuesday evening for many years, in almost every area of the temple. Charlie didn't believe in gray areas, things were either right or wrong, and if it was gray, then it was too close to wrong for him. He loved listening to John Bytheway and Sheri Dew. He had an extra special reverence in his heart for the books and talks by S. Michael Wilcox. I can't think of Charlie without thinking of music. He was inspired by Mack Wilberg of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Ron Staheli from BYU Singers. He loved their works and the spirit they brought into the songs. Oh how I miss the music between us.
His suits - they were so much a part of him. Even if he was awakened from a deep sleep to go give a blessing, he would still put on his white shirt, tie, and a suit. To him church meant respect and that meant suit. I love to see his suits hanging in the closet - and sometimes when the ache is at it's worst, I bury my face in them and cry - that little part of him is still with me. I am careful when I go shopping to avoid the men's department. I wonder if the day will ever come that I walk by it and not fall apart....
As much as I have dreaded this week, there have been some uplifting moments. A few weeks before he died, Charlie took a picture of our entire primary. It was for a sister in our ward (who worked with me in the nursery) who was going to the Grand Canyon and was going to a ward at the bottom of the canyon. She wanted to give the picture to the primary kids in that ward. I had forgotten all about this photo (which also happens to have me in it). On Sunday, the new issue of "The Friend" was announced in church, and Charlie's photo was in it. Our bishop was tearful as he said "Charlie's work lives on". To me, it's even more than that. I feel as if Heavenly Father allowed Charlie to reach down for a brief moment. I don't believe it is just coincidence that this was published at the one year anniversary of his death. Then today I got an email from a wonderful family in the ward letting me know that two copies of this magazine are on the way to my home. Angels watching over me. Thank you.
I heard a touching story on Sunday from a sister who's family has been dear to both of us. She was in the bishop's office with her class on 1 July 2007. She heard the bishop's phone ringing and saw that he wasn't answering it . She told him to go ahead and take the call. As he listened, she saw his face drain of all color and she knew that whatever was being said, it was something very bad. That phone call was me, telling the bishop, who was Charlie's best friend, that Charlie had died and that the paramedics were trying to revive him and that I needed him to come right away. This sweet sister says she still doesn't like to be in the office because it reminds her of that day. It's touching to know that he was special to so many.
Another special thing happened on Sunday. Another dear sister was giving a talk in sacrament meeting, with the subject being "a house of order". She talked about how the temple is a house of order and mentioned how their family cannot talk or sing about the temple without thinking about Brother Pruett. It means so much to me when others speak about him.
Today marks one year since you passed away. It feels like it was yesterday - and at the same time it feels like forever. I miss you as much, maybe even more, as I did the day you were taken from us. It still hurts just as much. I still cry every day. The initial "I can't breathe, my stomach is in knots" feeling is gone, but the deep ache is still there. I think it always will be. We've had a year of firsts - everyone's first birthday since you've been gone. Our first anniversary. The first 4th of July, first Halloween, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first Valentine's Day, first Easter. Happy events, but tinged with sadness for the one isn't there. I know you're up there watching over us and I'll be with you again someday. But that doesn't make the pain go away.
I chose the song playing in the background to partly express how I feel:
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good...
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better
And because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good
I was blessed to be loved by Charlie. He loved his children so much, he still kept things they had made close to him - they were treasures in his eyes. He loved his precious granddaughters - they meant the world to him. It hurts that they won't grow up with him. I will always cherish the years we had together. Thank you Charlie for making me who I am and for believing in me. Thank you for loving me unconditionally. I will always love you.
