A few days after my mother died, my husband left for a month
of travel and lecturing. I arrived home
from my mom’s funeral in the evening. Earlier that morning my husband Earl left
for Brazil. From Brazil he traveled on
to West Africa.
My mother, Muriel Isabel Toole Fisher, was involved in an
automobile accident on her way to work on Monday morning. She was conscious and was able to sign the
consent forms for surgery and give the people at the hospital the number to
reach her husband/my father John Robert Fisher (Bob). She never gained consciousness following the
surgery.
A few weeks after Mom’s death, my dad drove to Utah and
stayed with us for a few days. It was
the summer of 1982 and I was alone with four small children. It was hot in our house without air
conditioning. My two year old daughter,
Kimberly, and I were sleeping on a mattress downstairs in the study. At least we were trying to sleep. She cried and cried and cried. There did not seem to be anything that I
could do to console her.
I was not too
surprised when my father knocked on the door and came in. He had been unable to sleep because of the
crying baby. He quietly asked me if I
would like him to give Kimberly a blessing.
When I said yes, he knelt beside the mattress and put his hands on her
head and gave her a grandfather’s blessing.
I have no recollection of anything that he said, but she stopped crying
and immediately fell into a quiet, untroubled sleep.
Too often I forget about what Elder Bednar calls “Heavenly
Father’s” tender mercies. This was a
quiet moment in our lives when a special blessing calmed not only a two year
old but my troubled souls as well.
