...Gayla passed from death into life. I, for one, miss her terribly. But I believe she is where God wants her to be, and for a reason. Mom has recorded, and I often heard her speak, about how she did not want a fourth baby. She was already overwhelmed with the care of Faline, Lamona and me. But the Holy Spirit convicted her, telling her that there was a very special spirit waiting to be welcomed into our home.
And Gayla was special. Through the hardship and pain of severe health problems, and through other heartaches that God only knows all about, she persevered, in innocence, in loving and forgiving, and in trying to overcome, somehow, the trials with which she was so sorely afflicted.
Shortly after receiving her patriarchal blessing she shared with me one of the things that it said, that she would be the savior of her family. I didn't want to think about the implications of this at the time, but deep down I had an idea of what it meant. Even though she had been at death's door so many times, she always came back, and I came to expect that death would be defeated until I was ready to let her go. But it didn't happen the way I thought it should.
She was an angel. Her singing voice was evidence of this. I have never heard another voice like hers, and don't expect that I ever will. Her soprano tones could not be described in worldly terms, such as "lyric" or "coloratura". They were nothing less than angelic, not meant to be exploited by earthly ears. They were destined, apparently, to be part of an angel choir.
There was one song in particular that Faline, Lamona, Gayla and I used to sing, words written by Alfred Lord Tennyson (somebody correct me if I'm wrong) that, when I think of it, I can still hear Gayla's glorious descant, ascending as if to heaven:
"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy!
Oh, divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love,
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned;
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life!
If only we could all take to heart the message of this song--that without Gayla's help we would not have been able to sing half so beautifully--and learn to cling daily to the Inspirer of the author of these words, our sister will not have died in vain.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy!
Oh, divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love,
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned;
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life!
If only we could all take to heart the message of this song--that without Gayla's help we would not have been able to sing half so beautifully--and learn to cling daily to the Inspirer of the author of these words, our sister will not have died in vain.
8 comments:
Note: The actual date of Gayla's death was February 11th, even though on the post it appears as Feb. 10th, because I wrote this blog last night and saved it for today.
Teddie, thank you for sharing those beautiful thoughts and memories of Gayla.
You can change the date on your post if you go to edit, and at the bottom there is an option that says Post Options. If you click on that you will see to the right where you can change the date.
Thank you Teddie--Gayla always has been beautiful and angelic. I miss her.
This is one of the hardest days for me to go through every year. I remember that night very clearly and it continues to haunt me.
My mom was ill that night when I went to bed. I remember waking up and Grandpa and Grandma taking me to the hospital to see my mom. When we got there, my dad pulled them aside, keeping me out of earshot and told them what happened. I anxious to see my mom, but my dad kept me from seeing her. When they had her funeral, I remember being confused for two reasons. One, I couldn't understand why my mom was in a box and two, I couldn't understand why everyone would cry when I asked why. I probably would have been a momma's boy if she was still alive, but I don't think that I would be as strong willed if that were the case.
Grandma used to tell me that my mom always felt that she came short when it came to being a mother, but in my eyes, she was doing it right. I'll love my mother forever.
Sadness--I remember the phone call. Reading that brought up a wave of old feelings from that day.
The song you transcribed is one of my favorites. It's called "Eternal Life, Prayer by St Francis of Assisi" composed by Olive Dungan. I had to track it down so I could sing it for Sacrament Mtg a few of months ago. And I agree, no one could possibly begin to sing this song as beautifully as Gayla.
Oh, Teddie, the memories you have brought back! I have written in my own journal my thoughts and reactions of that day, so I don't want to re-write them. Suffice it to say that I am so so so glad that Noelle, Rachelle, and I were able to get to know Gayla in the few months before her death. I still hear her voice singing the descant to "Silent Night" whenever that hymn is sung.
Thanks for the tech support Noelle. And Monte, thanks for finding out all the info on the song. I'm making a note of it for future reference.
You're right Lonny. Your mom did alright. She wouldn't leave you alone to go anywhere, even when I thought she should. One thing's for sure. You and she are bonded.
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