I have had the blessing of knowing a woman who's very essence made me a better person. How do you describe with words a person who, by very definition, is indescribable?
How do you paint a picture of a life, when there could never be color enough to adequately give justice to it's vibrance?
How do you begin to pull from the fibers of your soul the lessons you have learned from this woman and then describe those lessons in such a way that they affect others the same way they affected you?
How do you even begin?
I don't think I can, especially not in a way that does justice to the beauty of Madelin Benson's life. It has often been said that, "by their fruits you shall know them." This phrase has come repeatedly to my mind as I have mourned and wept beside so many of my friends during this difficult time. The lives that David and Madelin have touched speak for themselves. The countless acts of goodness, kindness, and love given to others say more than any words could ever say. There isn't one among us who was not touched my their love, their selflessness, and their strength. We all felt as if they were "ours."
So many around me have written such beautiful sentiments and have so eloquently described our sweet Madelin. Healing comes as I remember her, in all her glory and spunk. To that end, I attempt to share how Madelin's legacy will be carried on in me.
Madelin and I came to be in what can only be described as "divine providence." I'll never forget the day I received my new visiting teaching assignment. I was so disheartened to learn that I would be visiting teaching with a companion so much older than myself! Didn't the relief society president understand that I was a young mom and needed to have a companion my own age to relate to?!
Oh was I wrong.
After our first visit, I quickly realized that Madelin was older than me only in wisdom and body. Her mind, her spunk and charisma, and her attitude were definitely not that of an old lady;)! I remember coming home from that appt and telling Cole all about Sister Benson and all the things I had learned from her in just that one visit. Then, in tears, I remember humbly thanking my loving Heavenly Father for knowing me better than I knew myself and for giving me her as my companion. I never could have imagined just how close we would grow to be. We were faithful visiting teaching companions, visiting our 3 sisters monthly for the course of 3 1/2 years, but we were so much more than that. I often called her my "kindred spirit." It seemed that our lives were destined to cross. All her years of knowledge and wisdom fit so perfectly into my need for advice and encouragement. She became a dear friend - a confidant in the weak hours and a celebration mate in the proud ones.
The thing about Madelin is that every person who ever spoke to her felt an instant connection with her. She had the ability to see inside you and compliment you in a way that made you feel as if she'd known you forever. Each Sunday when I would enter the chapel, she would get up from her bench (they were always there on time) and come give me a hug. Then she would touch my hair or my shoulder and comment on how beautiful I was, how put together I looked, or how radiant I shone. She usually complimented me the most on the days I felt like the biggest basket case! There were so many Sundays that I laughed right back at her when she was trying to compliment me! She'd give me a little whack and tell me to stop it! She always saw the best in others,
Yes sirree, Madelin was a firecracker! A natural redhead, and boy was she proud of it! She often talked about her younger years and her flowing red hair! She reminisced often of her days on the beach and working at Disneyland. Can't you just imagine her...befriending everyone with that smile of hers? The lives she touched could go on forever. Oh how she hated growing older, especially since it meant getting "a boy cut!" It didn't matter that we all thought she was beautiful because that shorter haircut was the bane of her existence! In fact, often times, when I would go to pick her up, she would come out looking very sheak and elegant and I would comment on it. She would quickly retort with a, "Bah! This crazy hair. It was bugging me to pieces, so I just took those old scissors and chopped at it! Now look what I've done!" Her haircuts always looked amazing to me! I thought she was beautiful!
She was a woman of all trades. She cut hair, made her own clothes and jewelry, and could cook like nobodies business. She was so proud of how "cheap" she was! She would often say, "I don't cost David a penny. Those men have enough to worry about without having a wife that spends all their money!" It was a rare day to see Madelin wear a shirt I'd seen before! She loved making herself new shirts out of leftover or clearance fabric. As much as she loved making her " $1 shirts" (as she called them), she loved making her Christmas nightgowns, pajamas, and what-nots for her grand kids even more. Every time I talked to her she was working on some project...either for her grand kids that were going on missions, getting baptized, or getting married. She was so proud of her sons and so proud of that family of hers; that family that she had created with sweat and tears.
I was so grateful for the endless lessons that I learned from her. I looked forward to my moments with Madelin. Before we ever had a chance to visit our sisters, she would hand me my own plate of whatever yummy goodies she had baked, and earnestly ask me how I was doing. I could never fake an answer. No, she knew me way better than that. She knew the "real" me and she wasn't content with the superficial answer. I can't count the times she said or did the right thing at just the right moment, truly sometimes to the minute. Her life was like that. Her heart was always in the right place and she was close to her Father in Heaven. During our years together, we had some sisters go through some very difficult things. I will never forget her prayers for those women, or her pain as she pleaded with Heavenly Father to help us find a way to help them. Many times she would call me, early in the morning (because she was always up early), and counsel with me on impressions we had. I loved our phone talks - they could, and often did, go on for hours. Yes, Madelin was amazing.
Of all the lessons I learned from her - on how to raise my boys and make sure they knew how to work, on how to show my husband I loved him better, on how to be proud of being a woman, on how to make my own jewelry, on how to learn to sculpt and paint, on how to be a business owner and a mother, on how to be a woman of God, on how to be a lady....the lesson that will forever stay ingrained in me is one she taught without trying.
About a year and a half ago, when Cole was laid off, I was having a hard time. She knew it. She brought in treats, even soup often - mostly to check on us and see for herself that things were fine. I was in a funk. Try as I might, my heart ached and I just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that things were never going to be okay again. I struggled with having to go back to work. I struggled with feeling like I could do anything right. I went through the motions, but she knew better. After visiting one of our sisters, we began to walk home and she stopped me. She pulled out a note written in her beautiful cursive on lined paper. She had written me words of advice. I don't know if she ever really knew how much those words of advice meant to me or how much I clung to them during those very difficult months. She told me to never let the beast win. (She described the beast as anger, depression, or a quick temper. She counseled me to never, ever let them get the best of me or to ever let myself give in to them.) She told me to love my husband and to build him up -to point out all the great things he does and to look for the good. She told me to rub his ear (oh, that made me laugh) and touch him softly as often as I could. She told me that men need to be touched gently! (I loved when she talked about loving my husband. I couldn't ever argue or dispute what she said because she loved her own so fully.) She counseled me to keep my head up and remember who I was and that I was strong. She told me to never forget that I would make it through all this. She also told me to "be still and look for God in all things." I will never forget the Spirit that surrounded us during this conversation. Oh, how I loved my Madelin and how grateful I was that God had led me to her.
As is our course in life, Madelin began to age. A few months ago she had to have a device implanted to make sure her heart beat at a regular rate. Oh how she hated that "blast" thing! However, rather than let it get her down, she decided to "wear that old thing out!" She definitely started feeling better again once that was working right. She constantly bemoaned her aging body, her skin cancer marked skin and wrinkles! Didn't that body of hers know that she didn't feel old?! Why did it betray her like that! I loved listening to her talk about her adventures and would often remind her that she had worn her body plumb out and it was no wonder she had a few wrinkles! My goodness, she had earned them! If ever a woman LIVED life...it was Madelin. Her stories were never-ending! They were hilarious and they were real! She never minded sharing a story if it meant someone else could learn a lesson from it! She was proud of the wisdom she had gained in living a very full life!
When we think of Madelin, we think of David. David was her world. Words could never describe the love, nor respect she had for him. They'd had rough days, just like any of us, but she adored him and loved being his wife. She prided herself on cooking him such wonderful meals that he couldn't stand to eat out! They were sweethearts. We have all seen them walking the neighborhood, hand in hand, 2 miles a day, for years. That is how I choose to see them still. One thing I always loved about Madelin and David was a ritual I saw every time we were together. Whenever I got Madelin in the car, he'd come to make sure she was in okay and tell me to take care of her. I'd promise I would and say goodbye. He would stop me and say, "Not goodbye, see you later!" As he said it, he'd cock his head to the side and point his finger, with a little grin, and he and Madelin would lock eyes. She would shake her head at his antics (like it was the first time he'd ever said it), chuckle, and say, "See you later dear!" I couldn't help but laugh every time I witnessed this and Madelin would always say, "that funny ol' goose!" She adored him and every one of us knew it. We also know he adored her. Theirs was a relationship we all strived to emulate. Hers was a life we all admired and yearned for.
Today, despite the wonder of her life, my heart is heavy. Yesterdays busyness has worn off and today's pain is intensified. Tears come quickly at the little things I didn't even realize I associated with her. I have always loved Jack Weyland's, Charly. Today I find solace and peace in knowing that Madelin has returned to her loving Father in Heaven. Why? I don't know. I don't think God explains why. Not because he isn't listening or because he doesn't care, but perhaps, because the reasons don't make sense, not now anyway. When Lazarus died, Christ didn't tell his sisters that everything would be alright. It wasn't. He was dead and they were in pain. Christ knew Lazarus would live, but he didn't try to explain it away. He didn't try to dry their tears. He wept with them. He loved them.
It's in that love that I find peace. It is in that love that I trust that all things will be made right. And it is in that love that I find the right to be patient with myself, as I ache and process all of this.
A friend shared a beautiful quote from a talk that Joseph B. Wirthlin gave in 2004. When I read the article, I simply cried. It relays so beautifully exactly what the gospel means to me. It puts into words the reason that life's trials are endurable. It magnifies the truth that each of us will live again, despite whatever this life drags us through. It reminds us to have hope and to continue.
"I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross.
On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth. Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they stood triumphant.
On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain. Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung lifeless upon the cross. On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies. On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled. It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God. I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest. But the doom of that day did not endure. The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind. And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the proof that death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous existence."
And this is where I'm at now. Still stuck in Friday or Saturday, but confident that Sunday WILL come. How grateful I am for that undeniable knowledge, that Sunday will come. Until we meet again, my dear friend, your legacy will not be forgotten.
"Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come."
