I grow tired of all the media adulation upon the death of movie stars, while other vital news of greater importance is ignored. However, this week’s loss of Robin Williams is somehow different. Not because his movies were mostly good, clean fun, or that he made me laugh as early as Mork and Mindy, or even that he made me think deep thoughts in most of his movies.

No, the sad event is even darker because he could no longer withstand the darkness of his depression, bipolar disorder, or any of the other mental health issues he had, exacerbated by the drugs and alcohol. The darkness and instability of mental illness, no matter the label, is difficult to bear. Robin Williams was expert in hiding his darkness, giving joy to others with jokes, impressions, and improvisations. He gave to others, providing help to younger actors and giving support to others with mental health problems. For those of us not close to him, he had a good life. All was well.

But the laughter and jokes were a front, covering the darkness of mental health problems and dark depression. Everything was not rosy in his life. He, like many others who suffer with this challenge, tried to find relief in a bottle of alcohol or in one or more of the illicit drugs available. He tried to self-medicate the darkness away. It did not work any better for him than it does for the thousands of others who try the same path. His ability to make people laugh, to feel, helped him financially survive the darkness. Not everyone can do that.

Like many others in the United States, our family has members who struggle with the darkness like Williams did. Countless hours, and hundreds of dollars have been spent talking a beloved child into the hospital or away from that last step. Fortunately for our family, appropriate medication has been prescribed, and the addictions are under control, for now. Lives are improving and hope is on our horizon.

But hope is rarely on the horizon for those most troubled by depression. It is never fully in their court, never certain to drive away the fears and darkness that cause thoughts of ending life by their own hand. Spirituality helps, when there is enough light to allow the truth through, but spirituality, or medication, only lifts the edge of the curtain of hope, then forces it down, as though iron balls were sewn in to ensure the curtain hangs smooth, and tight.

For those who struggle with serious depression, the darkness of the destroyer rules. It requires hope beyond measure, and love from family and friends, lots of it, deeply and for a very long time, to draw the curtain of pain back enough to allow true light and knowledge to fill their souls. It is never certain that the light has won, and the darkness banished.

For many years, the mentally ill were considered lost souls, locked up in back rooms or sanatoriums to prevent their contamination of the general population. They have been perceived as “children of the devil” or worse. It is no wonder children taunt others by calling them “crazy”, and adults flinch when that appellation is directed towards them. Health insurances limit coverage for doctors and medications, further aggravating the chances for most to push aside the dark curtain and walk into the light. In recent years, help for the mentally ill has been drastically reduced, leaving many homeless on the streets of every major city.

No, the tragedy of Robin Williams losing to the darkness, giving in to loss of hope is more than the loss of a talented performer. This tragedy besets our nation. Lives are lost to the darkness. Most fight it; some give in to suicide, leaving behind parents, spouse, and children to pick up the pieces. Not everyone left behind is forced to open their lives to the media like Mr. Williams’ family. But they are called on to answer the questions of friends and neighbors, and the most difficult, unanswerable questions of their own. Darkness attempts to reign. Children believe themselves to be the cause, many falling into the trap of depression themselves.

What can we do? Certainly not damn the family left behind through insidious, grasping messages. Better, love your family; make them the center of your life, as Jack did in “Peter Pan”. If you have someone in your life who faces the darkness of depression, help them know there is light and hope in the world, and you are there to help them through the blackness of despair.

Finally, if you face the hopelessness and blackness of depression, don’t give up. Reach out to someone, anyone. Seek help and know light is behind the curtain. It can be drawn back to view light and knowledge. If you struggle, find one small thing each day that will bring you joy. It may be the laugh of your child, the rain or the sunshine on your face, or beautiful music. Find your joy, and cling to it if you must until the depths of darkness pass, and you are able to find light in your life again.

“What happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas,” is a motto suggesting opportunities for many activities, few legal, moral, or ethical. (My opinion of the motto is a subject for another day.) People come to our beautiful city hoping to return home with a new car, house, or at the least, lots of cash. Most return home with much less than they brought.

Casinos are brightly lit with no windows or clocks to remind patrons of the time or even if the day, or night, has passed. Colorful areas with enticing noises help to convince one that in only a moment or two, their machine or cards will “hit” and they will become wealthy. Few achieve wondrous wealth. The few who do “win” usually pour it back in a futile effort to win more. Thousands of people occupy the multitude of casinos conveniently forgetting all that glitz can’t come from generous management, regardless of signs touting their latest “winners.”

Contrast this tourist view of the city with another which happens many times each week. A man and a woman, dressed in white, kneel at the altar of God, covenanting with each other and God they will be moral, honest, upright people, treating the love of their life with honor. And they do.
One of my favorite quotes comes from the movie Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest when Captain Jack Sparrow tells William Turner,

“Not all treasure is silver and gold, Mate.”

Captain Jack is telling him to look far beyond the glittering treasure of gold and jewels. The love of his life is of more value than all the treasure in the cave. Similarly, patrons seeking treasure by winning at a gambling house may lose the treasure of greater worth, their sweethearts and their families.

In surveying her family through time, Eve must surely have seen millions who gave up love, family, friends, and joy for a chance to obtain a treasure that glitters, shines, or buys more of the stuff of this world. She must have sorrowed at their loss.

Is it time to check the treasure you hold dear? Will it rust or corrupt? Or is your heart, your treasure, focused on family, friends, and God?

I’m sitting here in my parent’s living room listening to stories of ancestors. It is interesting to hear about the changes of names after they came to the United States. Some family names have undergone so many changes it is a wonder we can find our great grandparents.

I love hearing stories of my grandparents and great grandparents. One grandfather was known as a runner. Dad remembers his grandfather in his 80s running races with the young men of the town. Running backward his grandfather was able to run faster.

Other grandparents came to the United States from England, and were enticed to return for a short period. He and his wife determined to return to the United States, bringing with them her parents and sisters. The grandmother died in childbirth and the child died soon after.

One grandfather emigrated from England to Plymouth, Massachusetts ten years after the Mayflower. One time he helped to save the colony from the Indians. Our families came from England, Scotland, Germany, across Europe. It is quite a heritage, one I am grateful to know a little bit about.

Eve looked at family from the opposite perspective. Everyone was (and is) her child or grandchild. She listened to their stories. She felt their joys and their sorrows. She must have been hurt when many of her children chose not to listen to her teachings. It must have been painful when more children chose to follow the destroyer than who chose to follow God’s laws.

I know the joy of childbirth and children. I could feel her love each child and her great sorrow as many chose not to listen and obey the covenants and laws she and Adam had agreed to obey. She waited many years for a child to obey the covenant laws. Abel was obedient, and his brother Cain murdered him. Can you imagine Eve’s grief? Her sorrow? She was not a young woman by then and they still needed a young man to carry on the heritage of the Priesthood. It was years later when that son, Seth, was born.

Have you lost children to faiths other than yours? It is painful, especially when your beliefs are strong. Can you imagine Eve’s sorrow? I can. Her love of family permeated my soul as I wrote her story, Eve Remembers. Read an excerpt:

Abel never returned. The next morning, Jed came running from Cain’s fields. He had gone looking for Abel. The front of Jed’s robe was soaked with his tears.

“Mama! Papa! Cain is not in his fields—but Abel is! He is not moving, his head is all bloody, and he will not answer when I speak to him. Papa, come with me! Please!” he cried, tugging on Adam’s sleeve.

Adam and I followed him to Cain’s fields. They were past ours, so we had to run a distance, panting when we arrived. There he lay, our beautiful, obedient, loving son. His head had been smashed by a rock. There was no breath in him. He was dead. I fell to my knees, sobbing, calling his name.

“Abel, oh Abel! What has happened to you? Who did this to you? Oh, Abel! Why did you come here to find Cain? Oh, Abel!” I cried.

Adam knelt beside me, and held me close, whispering in my ear, “Eve, Eve. He is gone and his brother did this. The Lord warned me something would happen. Abel, our only obedient son. Oh, Eve.” He, too, began to sob. Jed knelt behind us, wrapping his arms around us from the side, tears falling onto our necks. We sobbed a long time, heartbroken.

I hope I never have to lose a child in that manner. I hope you don’t, either.

I’m exhausted and want to be sleeping. Instead, I sit here watching late night television and my sleeping granddaughter. I care for her some nights while her daddy works. Though I’d like to be in bed, I sit here waiting—because I love her and her dad.

In the past few weeks I have spent time getting to know our littlest grandsons. There is nothing like a newborn’s laugh, or the laugh of one who is a bit older. I spent time with all but one grandson in the last month. Time with grandchildren is precious to me. We have been swimming, gone to movies, made cookies, played at the park. Each has been memorable for me, and I hope they will be remembered by them.

My mother talks of times with her grandchildren. Her best memories are of telling her grandchildren stories—stories of her life, stories about their parents. She has written books of those stories so her grandchildren will know her.

Some say grandchildren are God’s gift for surviving their teenage parents. I loved my teenagers, and I love their children. I’m happy to have the gift of grandchildren.

Have you ever wondered how Eve felt about her grandchildren? I know, silly question. She felt the same as grandmothers everywhere. She wanted them to be happy, she wanted them to learn and do the things she had taught their parents.

Eve had lots of grandchildren and great grandchildren. She was blessed to have some of them listen and learn those vital teachings. Sadly, not as many listened as did not.

Over her many years on earth, about nine hundred, Eve did not meet all her grandchildren. When her children and grandchildren chose to listen to the voice of the destroyer, they moved away. Other children moved away just because they needed more room to live, spreading out across the face of the land. There was no way Eve could have met every great grandchild.

You are her grandchild. Mitochondrial evidence proves we all are descended from one mother—Eve. She is mother to all who live here on earth. She is truly our “great” grandmother.

I would like to spend time with her, as I have spent time with my own grandchildren, talking, sharing. I would hope she is happy with the choices I have made. I hope she approves of the story I wrote about her. I felt her near. It has been a special time for me. I like to think we have had some special, personal time together, with her telling me stories.

Someday I will write the stories of my life, and share the silly things my children and grandchildren have done. We will read them together and laugh and share in the joy of familial love. I will also share the things I learned about Eve.

Happiness is a Matter of Attitude.

As I edit and prepare to publish my book, Remembering Eve, I find myself thinking of Eve’s life. It could not have been easy to live alone on this earth. I often wondered how she gave birth the first time, alone with Adam. Writing the book answered that question for me.

Other issues they faced are similar to those we face in 2014. Too many children choose to follow the lies of the destroyer, turning their backs on the light and truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Eve sorrowed, missing each child and grandchild, hoping for their return.

Men forgot the majesty their women brought with them and found ways to demean and diminish them. In their pain, many women turned from men and their gods. Women created female god-idols, seeking relief from grief and sorrow forced upon them by their men. Men and women found pleasure in one another without marriage, and often in spite of marriage, whether or not the woman welcomed it.

These brought Eve sorrow. Other things grieved her. She would not have liked that her children were enslaved, their right of choice stolen. Choice is a gift from the beginning, and all find themselves meeting the consequences of those choices, positive and negative. The enslaved are left with few choices. Sometimes their only choice is how they respond to their enslavement.

Eve would not have been happy when some of her family lost themselves in wine and strong drinks. Even then, addictions caused adults to forget the needs of their children in search of more addictive substance. Our addictions may be different, but some of the addicted still leave children in the cold—unfed, unclothed, and unwanted.

The poor have always been with us, certainly even among the children of Eve. I believe she was hurt that pride would cause her children to turn their faces from them, ignoring their needs, and allowing adult and child to suffer. In many ways we ignore our poor. Every school system is faced with homeless students. Some do better than others in helping to meet their needs.

How many beggars are on the streets of your city? I am confronted by beggars at almost every corner of my city. I help when I can, and wish I could help more. I see homeless sleeping under trees, under freeway overpasses, even along sidewalks—any place they can avoid police. These families and individuals should find more help from a country as wealthy as the United States. Food, homes, and other necessities of life should be more available, from individuals, groups, and governments.

As Eve’s children turned away from the teachings of their parents and the commandments of God, they lost truth and light, and its attendant joy. Many citizens of 2014 are similarly lost, searching through the darkness of sin and disobedience. Eve would tell you repent and come unto Christ. It hasn’t changed much in all these years.

Parades, fireworks, barbeques, and fun are common activities on the Fourth of July. It’s a great summer holiday. Time to forget work, time to play. But, did you remember the real reason for the celebration?

Men and women determined to free themselves from the political control of a king who lived across the Atlantic. Distance and time prevented a real understanding of the problems, needs, and dreams of the citizens in this new land. The king’s army carried out his heavy handed orders, and our ancestors rebelled.

God gave His children freedom as part of the plan to obtain salvation. Each of us has the right and the responsibility to freely choose our actions. Freedom is God-given, and when it is prevented, we yearn for it. Political entities can take away many opportunities and rights, but no one can deprive us of our ability to choose our responses or our thoughts.

Freedom was freely given, with responsibilities tied to the rights. We are responsible to choose good leaders, to support those who fight to maintain that freedom, and to do our best to live freely. Freedom for our country, and many others, came at a price of blood paid by our best and brightest sons.

There always seems to be someone who thinks they know more, or better, and fight for control and the destruction of our hard-fought rights and freedoms.
With the right to choose comes the necessity of accepting consequences. Some of those are wonderful: a new job, more money or time, and greater happiness, while other consequences are difficult to accept: loss of freedom, choice, happiness. The results flow naturally and logically from our actions—hold a sparkler too long and you will be burned.

The fight for continued freedom must constantly be fought. It can never be left to others, or ignored, for when we do some “other” will cheerfully move us out of the path of freedom and into the pen of slavery. We cannot sleep through the battle for freedom. We cannot allow our freedoms to be slowly stripped away until none are left. If we do, it will not be easy to regain them.

Rather than reach the point of no return, when it will require a battle of arms and death, let us resolve to be aware of our freedoms and rights slipping through our hands. Let us stand for freedom. Let us be study the constitution and intelligently support freedom. Let us make our voices heard strongly by calling and writing our legislators and other leaders, demanding that our freedoms be strengthened.

Once lost, it will be difficult to make choices that bring happiness. Our choices will be made for us. There are those who are cheerfully working to make choices for us, to enslave us, slowly and carefully so we barely notice. Sometimes events are manipulated to encourage us to beg for our freedoms to be stolen.

Only effort on the part of every citizen will ensure our children and grandchildren will live in a gloriously free country, free to light fireworks, watch parades, and enjoy the freedoms we did only a few years ago.