shift to a higher gear

 

This is a paper my sister Johanna wrote for Time Out for Women. ( it was written a few years ago but is a great read still today)

 

 

 

Two years ago in March my dad took his life. It was the hardest trial I've ever faced. It felt as is someone had kicked me in the stomach. I didn't sleep through the first week. In fact, because of my knowledge of the after life I kept waking up hoping my father's spirit was in my room and that I could see him smile at me one more time. I remember driving to the hospital to say my final good bye to my dad and on the radio was general conference. President Eyring was giving his talk, "mountains to climb". It was as if he were talking right to me. I knew that my Heavenly Father was aware of me and my situation. I never thought this could happen in my family, especially my dad he was so strong and I looked up to him in so many ways. How was I unaware of my dad and how much he was hurting inside? Why didn't I hug him the last time I talked to him? So many unanswered questions my heart ached. It almost seemed taboo to talk about how he died, and at first I didn't. If people didn't already know I told them it was a horrible accident. Everyone assured me things would be alright in the eternal perspective. I needed to know for sure and it didn't seem like people had answers for me just comfort. I finally had to realize it was out of my hands and Heavenly Father loves all his children and yes one day I would see my dad again. 

My dad was an athlete so his body was very healthy. Because of the way he took his life it left him brain dead and they were able to harvest all of his vital organs, including his heart which is very rare. I tried to be happy someone else's dad was going to be saved, but I was still struggling. One person wrote how grateful he/she was to receive this gift and that he/she would pay this blessing forward. 

For the funeral my siblings and I were asked to write down stories about my dad. My brother wrote about a time when he and my dad were in a duathlon together and my brother was so happy because he actually beat my dad at the run. He got on his bike and rode as fast and hard as he could. But my dad was a very strong cyclist and caught up to my brother. My brother Jason wrote,"but to no avail! My dad caught me on the bike, and as he flew by, offered five words of wisdom that have stuck with me to this day, "shift to a higher gear!" This bit sage advice is how I have been trying to live my life. It's also how I think my dad was trying to live his. Always pushing to be able to shift and to spin the next higher gear." We adopted this motto in our family. My sister and I have vinyl stickers on our car! We wanted to take this tragedy and turn it into something positive. We didn't want to dwell on how horrible it really was. We have been trying to push ourselves out of our comfort levels and continually shift and spin to the next higher gear. 

A month later I completed a half marathon I was supposed to run with my dad, and I ran another one on his birthday a few months later. My running had new purpose. I ran for my dad. I ran to heal. I ran to be better. 

 

Last year I decided to buy a bike. As a kid I watched my dad race his bike and I always wanted to race like him. It was so exciting to watch my dad race up gigantic hills and cheer him on as we drove by in the car! This summer I'm planning on riding my first 100 mile bike ride. It's hard for me to really grasp how far that really is! I've been working really hard riding hills and completing long, very long rides! Some days it hurts and I speak to my dad and tell him today I really don't like this I'm hurting and I don't know what to do!  He always knew what to do. I'm fortunate to have a few of his friends teach me what my dad taught them, and be able to ride with my step mom who says my dad taught her everything she knows about cycling. She believes that my dad has his hand on my back pushing me and making me stronger.  I run and ride for my dad and to push myself to do things I never thought I could do. 

I have a firm testimony of the afterlife and that our spirits live on. I know my dad is watching over me. I may not be able to see him but I can feel his love for me and I know he is proud of who I am.