Breathe Easy

 A personal essay by Sam Schulthies

"We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe" -Andrea Gibson

Down the hall, on your left there is a space to clear your head. A room of relief really. I found my dad here often reading books of all different colors. I never understood what was in them I must have been too young to care. One book, three shelves up on the right, forest green was a small book. The pages were wrinkled, some torn. This was the book that I stood on my tiptoes for. The one I read while my dad was reading his. I crinkle my forehead, trying to remember what the title was called. Vision blurred, inside is what is what becomes crystal clear. Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words brought curiosity when I was young and comfort as I got older. I remembered this after one of those reflective days:

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of the intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the beauty in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that one life has breathed easier because you lived here. This is to have succeeded."

I used to think of Heaven as a place in the clouds. A setting surely there but out of reach. I was content with what I came up with in my head. I felt reassured and a sense of safety came with the idea. There must be thousands, millions of perspectives of what people think of when they think of the afterlife. Constantly chasing after an answer no one can tell you for certain what may come of it. It’s one of those things if you think about it for too long it hurts your head. On rare occasions, if you’re lucky, you are thrown into that mindset.

Beau

It was a normal day, quite sunny really, I was rushing to go pick up my little sister. My phone buzzed a familiar picture popped up on the screen, it was my friend Ben. I answered quickly, running up the stairs- grabbing my keys. The tone of voice was what caught me off guard. He was talking fast and I knew something was wrong but I would never have imaged what he said next, “Beau’s in the hospital- ATV accident he quickly said, it’s not looking good, please pray for him.” 

I remember sinking to the floor feeling heavy and scared not knowing what to expect. I certainly expected a miracle. Miracles happen all the time I was taught when I was younger, I remember clearly hearing my grandmothers soothing voice say to me that every day was a miracle from above.

I got the courage to check my phone.

The days that followed were filled with despair. True heartbreak set in as I contemplated what had taken place. Losing someone is the strangest feeling. I would have to argue it is the most unique experience to take place. It didn’t take too long before I was angry with God. 

My mind at the time couldn’t comprehend the person who I grew up believing to be the most loving being, being the same person somehow responsible for taking Beau home to Him. I decided it would be best to express how I was feeling by completely turning away from Him entirely. You could say I was trying to make a statement, an act of abandonment. The pain was not gentle. Constantly replaying different scenarios, tossing and turning secretly wanting to find relief. Turning away from Him was not bringing me the comfort I craved. 

Annabelle

Once again, the mindset occurred. This time I was serving as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This day in particular was a very happy day, a lady who we were teaching attended her first relief society meeting. My phone vibrated, ***MISSION PRESIDENT appeared on the screen. We quickly stepped outside to answer the call. 

He asked to speak to me we started small talk, it was nice, uplifting actually. I thought the call was ending when he picked it back up by saying, “now the reason I am calling…” This is where suspicion arose. I’d heard this tone of voice before. He went on to inform me that my friend Annabelle had passed away. I don’t remember the rest of the conversation- I do remember my legs feeling weak, slowly melting to the ground, curled up next to the itchy walls of the church.

Similarities were found in both. Both unexpected, too young, two tragic accidents. Annabelle was serving as a full time missionary in the Alpine German Mission. She was in a hiking accident. We were supposed to come home weeks apart from one another. 

I remember thinking back on a time when I was with Annabelle. We were driving back to school with our friends and got into a major car accident. Her mom came to meet us at the hospital and I overheard her through the white striped curtain, that she prayed specifically for Annabelle to be safe driving today, she called it a miracle. I remember reaching out to my Mission President asking him why she had to die the way she did. An answer didn’t come entirely but those types of questions didn't bother me anymore.

Timing is a strange concept, one I have not come to terms with. It makes my brain hurt and I usually shrug off the thought. However, when I am desperately trying to wrap my mind around experiences like these, I seem to exhaust every avenue. I eventually run out of steam and find other things to set my mind on. 

Aftermath

On the car ride back to our apartment, after receiving the news, I remember thinking this time is different, somehow it doesn't hurt as bad. With tears still streaming down, between shallow breaths, I restated the words I analyzed in my head, "It doesn't hurt as bad" to my companion. 

Strange. The hurt should have been equal. The pain just as excruciating...

This time I had no desire to turn away from God. I quickly recognized how I was feeling and found myself reaching out to Him. The difference was drastic. How I physically felt inside was completely different than with Beau. I truly felt peace, a feeling hard to describe but once felt hard to forget. It made such an impact on me, it motivated me to want to share what seemed to be a breakthrough invention... a miracle with those around me.

Now when I think of heaven, I think of the little moments I shared with my friends. I think of laughing with Annabelle and walking on the golf course with Beau. 

Often, I run back to the room of relief-picturing that green book. Rehearsing the line in my head, “To know that one life has breathed easier because you lived here. This is to have succeeded.”

Annabelle and Beau succeeded.