Beautiful even when sleeping

When I was at Primary's with her, and before John and the kids had arrived, the nurses offered to help me clean Brittany up to make her pretty for everyone who was coming to see her. She had been through so much already, and has signs of it. We got her fresh clothes, and we were able to sponge bathe her. As I washed her legs and made my way down to her feet, I couldn't help but remember how she would always run around everywhere barefoot. The bottoms of her feet were always so dirty because of it. That day was no different. Again she had gone
without shoes. This time because she was too weak to put them on, but she wouldn't have wanted them on anyway. As I washed her feet, trying so hard to clean them as best as I could with the wash cloth that had been provided, all that I could think of was how Christ had done the same thing to those he loved also. Our feet carry us everywhere. They bare the weight of a hard day, they skip and run on days that you feel free. They carry us though our lives. Washing her feet felt like the perfect act of service to show her once again how much I love her.

Preparing her for her funeral felt much the same way. I wanted her to look perfect. One of my favorite parts of preparing for Brittany's funeral was getting her pretty. The mortuary had washed her hair, and it felt so soft. Every time we went to go see her, before she was dressed and ready for me to prepare her, I would run my fingers though her hair as I would talk to her. She still felt so alive even though she was still so evidently gone. She was cold, but she was still so much a part of my heart, it felt as though she was about to yawn and stretch and climb right off the bed, ready to go home.  I chose the dress I did because just a few weeks before she passed away, there was a dance she wanted to go to so badly. There was a boy there she had the biggest crush on, and in her own way she was living her own Cinderella story. She felt so beautiful, and that night she really was. I wanted her to feel beautiful in her final place of rest, so I got the dress I knew she loved. She was always so pretty, she never needed make up to look better. But I knew she would liked it, so I put on just a bit. She loved her nails painted. She was constantly sneaking in my room to take my polish. Bold and bright was what she liked the best. By the time I was done, she really was beautiful. I loved just looking at her. My only wish is that I could look into her eyes again. They were so expressive and heartfelt. That might be the thing I miss the most. That and her voice....