The Parable of the Missing Sock

When my grandmother was about to pass away, she made me promise her that I would do all of the "Mormon stuff" in the temple for her.  This was quite the turnaround considering that, at one time, she told me I would break her heart if I served a mission.  In that same link, I talk about how I felt the support of her husband who had passed away, helping me to continue to move forward with my decision to serve.  He had gained a testimony of the gospel and wanted his family to progress.

When she passed away, I carefully took note of the day one year later, that her temple work could be completed.  The day came and went.  I'd thought of doing her work but was just so busy with a baby and a toddler and a husband working the graveyard shift.  A did print off the temple cards and did talk to a friend with a daughter in YW about doing the baptism and confirmation but the cards were set on the shelf and the conversation was forgotten.

A few months ago, my mom got really sick and was in ICU.  I'd felt nudges from my grandmother to get her work done but with my mom sick, they became a bit more forceful.  A feeling of, "She better not end up here without me already having a better knowledge of things so that I can help her!"  Yesterday, I reprinted the cards.  (And then, ironically, found the previously printed ones today.)  I gave them to the friend with a daughter in YW and so hopefully we'll get things moving a bit more this time around.

By this time, you are certainly wondering what in the world all this has to do with a sock.  Well, as I was folding laundry this morning, I ended up with an unmatched sock.  I just put it in the drawer by itself, assuming it's missing companion would show up eventually.  Maybe I'm a little weird, but I do always feel a little bad for the unmatched sock sitting in the drawer without a friend.  I thought of my grandfather, just hanging out, waiting for grandma's temple work to get done so that he can get sealed to her.

As I picked up the laundry basket with the boys' clothes, I found the missing sock under the basket.  It felt nice to be able to pair up the missing sock with the unmatched sock.  I'm sure that feeling was just a small fraction of the feeling that will be present when I am able to sit as a proxy for my grandmother as she gets sealed to my grandfather.