Brother Hughes

Betsy called Monday to tell us that James had killed himself. James is gone. No more family fasts that he would have strength to fight his addictions. No more late night phone calls discussing how the principle of grace applies to mental illness. No more penis jokes. No more shrieks of terror from James' tickling fingers. No more gospel discussions of conference talks in the hot tub. No more of James' beautiful singing voice. No more sleepless nights that he'll drink himself to death or drive drunk. No more smell of James' cologne. As soon as we heard, Andrea and I drove to Oregon to be with Betsy. We got in about 2:00 in the morning and spent Tuesday writing the obituary, going to the funeral home and cemetery and meeting with the attorney. We planned the funeral and stood firmly on each side of Betsy. Never has our friendship felt so divinely orchestrated, like all the time we have spent together in the past was preparation for this moment. Betsy's pain is indescribable and she talks a lot about regret. Death has clarified and illuminated the difference between James' true self and the personality associated with his illness. I think we were veiled when we left the premortal life and came to this world. We see now see people's beautiful, pure souls through the veil of their earthly and flawed body. So people make bad and hurtful choices because of their "broken" minds or bodies and we can't see their divine souls anymore, just their natural bodies. At death, it seems like that veil is lifted and it is easy to see how bad choices were so heavily influenced by imperfect bodies. At death their divine souls are patently clear. After all the hurtful things James has done, all I can seem to remember now is what was so good and Christ-like about him. Yesterday was James funeral. We left the tricities at 5:30 am so we would have plenty of time to be there. At 9:00, near Multnomah Falls, the electric system in our car completely blacked out and the car died. We were frantic, we called cab companies, rental car companies, people we didn't know and roadside emergency. I even called the police. We sat for hours waiting for the tow truck in total despair. We missed the viewing and funeral. The kind tow truck driver loaded our rig, piled us all in and drove us straight to the cemetery where everyone was waiting to dedicate the grave. I don't typically ask why, but I am struggling beyond words why Heavenly Father would not intercede to allow us to be at that funeral. Tony and I wanted so badly to see him and say goodbye and tell him how much we loved him. After the funeral we went back to James and Betsy's house for a condensed version of the funeral including Jackson's talk, and to hear a recording of James singing "How Great Thou Art." Every day of my life I will thank God for the priveledge of a friendship with James and Betsy. Because of them I have learned that an angry hard heart anger is not what to take to the Savior for healing. Hurt, disappointment, and pain yes, but not a hard-heart full of anger. I have learned that I CAN love someone deeply despite the horrible choices they make. I have learned that the Lord sets boundaries and so can I. And I have learned that above all else I should seek the companionship of the Holy Ghost. When I do, I have confidence in my actions and decisions. When I don't, I get to endure life with uncertainty and lack of direction. Brother Hughes (the only nickname I ever came up with), we miss you terribly. We need you here for so many things, not just duct tape, chap stick and chocolate runs. I am greatly relieved that your suffering is over and that you are at peace and your mind is still. I can't wait to see you again and hope you are reserving the hot tub in heaven for the Lughesworths.