A Soul Turned Inside Out

Once upon a time, about 4 years ago, I was going through a very difficult time.

I lived in Alaska during this dark time and both literally and symbolically, I wondered if the sun would ever shine again in my life. I was experiencing a loss so great, I wondered if I would physically be able to survive the sadness.

At the time I briefly encountered a woman who was patient, kind, and happy. I was intrigued by her. In the midst of my darkness I asked her, casually, "Carolyn, what makes you happy?" Perhaps a reflection of what I was feeling, I expected her to say something about family and friends, and feeling unconditionally loved.

She answered "I think the thing that brings me the most happiness in life is being an instrument in the hands of God."

I felt jolted.

I was surprised. Mostly because that was the furthest thing from my mind. All I could feel was the pain and the loss. I felt like a soul turned entirely inside itself and shriveled.

The conversation quickly moved on. But her response, and example, would never leave my heart. I wondered if I would ever be able to be like that. I wanted my soul to one day be turned inside out, like hers.

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This week I went to the funeral of a dear friend, Wes Truman. I met Wes my freshman year of college, at Heritage Halls. 164 F Smith. Wes and Joe were our home teachers. That title may be a meaningless tag assigned to any number of people in life. But, in this instance, it was the other way around. Joe and Wes especially, gave meaning to what that title means. They felt a spiritual stewardship for us. They cared for us, watched over us, and became friends for life.

Like many other girls, I quickly became a bit infatuated with this humble and righteous disciple. Anne, my roommate, and I asked Wes and Joe to a girls' choice dance. Anne gave flowers and a note to Joe. I got a red wagon, filled it with hamburger buns, and wrote "Wes, I'd love to haul your buns to preference!" Very classy, I know. They responded with a song they wrote, and sang to us outside our dorm windows. That was over 10 years ago.

I remember driving my little Tic-Tac car down to Las Vegas for Wes' missionary farewell. He gave me the book, "Draw Near Unto God" by Henry B Eyring for my birthday. While I may have written a letter or two on his mission, my focus and life turned in other directions. But Wes and I remained good friends. Once you were a friend of Wes', you were a friend for life.

The next time I heard from Wes, he told me excitedly that he and Lori Packer were dating. She was also in our freshman ward, and was deemed to be the next general Relief Society President. They were a perfect match! It made perfect sense. His eyes sparkled when he spoke of her, and that they had even spoken of marriage. It was just a matter of time. The glory of our freshman days were immortalized with the marriage of Wes and Lori Truman, nine years ago.

About 3 years after their marriage I ran into Wes in the BYU Wilkinson Center. I knew he was preparing for medical school and he and Lori were RA's at DT- so fitting as that's where Wes and Joe lived our freshman year.

Although I noticed Wes was bald. The Wes I knew of freshman year, had a little wild streak in him (racing with friends between St. George and Las Vegas at speeds well into the triple digits). So I wasn't surprised that he had shaved his head, probably for a bet. I said jokingly, "Wes,you're bald! Do you have cancer or something?" He said yes. I've never wanted so badly to disappear into thin air.

I saw Wes occasionally on campus with his children, Lucy and Spencer, whom I read adoringly of in Lori's artful and articulately inspiring blog. He would update me on treatments. His cancer was in remission, and he was getting an MPA. He always invited me to dine with him and Lori and the kids. He had perks being married to an RA.

Last November I saw Wes in DI. Lori and the kids were with some friends looking at toys. I went up to talk to Wes, but noticed something was different. His speech was slower. He seemed to think slower. Looking back I realized how difficult it probably was to encounter friends who didn't know about the state of his cancer. His wife quickly rushed over and gracefully continued the conversation for him. I again felt bad for my lack of understanding of his situation, and wished I could do something. I remembering watching Wes from a distance after saying goodbye. He was playing with his children, entirely engrossed in their world, perhaps best able to relate to them than anyone else. I thought, "Wes is a good father. What a good man".

There were always invitations, and "we should get together sometime" and "so good to see you"s. But mostly I wanted to not cause Lori any further stress or the fanfare of those who had good intentions but were not part of the inner circle of their lives. I'm sure, for what time they had left with him, the entire family wanted the benefit of not having to talk about the cancer all the time.

So I searched the blog for news, updates, whisperings of diagnosis. And I was moved and changed by the great struggle for his life. In ways that neither of them know or see.

July 5th, 2011. I had been thinking about Wes a lot, and had written to the blog administrator of his blog and asked for access to post memories of Wes on the blog. She wrote back, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Wes died yesterday." I cried.

I called a friend to see if he would come to the funeral with me. I knew I would appreciate any kindness and support that day. There were beautiful pictures. There were hundreds of family and friends. I cried from the moment I stepped into the building. Before the meeting began I stepped out to find some tissue, and came upon the procession of family and friends, moving from the viewing room to the chapel.

The scene, that I will always remember, was Lori coming around the corner holding Lucy. There were many wet eyes, including hers. But she was smiling. Her eyes were sparkly, like they always have been. And she was holding and comforting Lucy. Lucy's face was soaked with tears and her red eyes could not conceal her sadness. The idea of those sweet children missing their father broke my heart. Someone behind her was holding Spencer, perhaps still to young to understand what was happening, but still solemn.

The funeral was beautiful. Wes' father and mother spoke- revealing his love for the Book of Mormon and memorization. His brother spoke, revealing the true Christ-like pillar of a man that he was. His good friend spoke of reckless times and friendships that began in 3rd grade and lasted through life. They spoke of the power of his influence on all those around him. An entire ward of young men on missions compared to a neighboring ward with half of the results, because of the influence of Wes Truman. Wes changed people.

The last speaker of the funeral was Lori. Wives of recently deceased husbands' don't usually speak. But she did, gracefully. She smiled with that same sparkle she has always had, as a tear or two ran down her cheeks. She said, "Thank you dear friends and family, for being here with our family on this difficult day".

Everything she spoke was poetry. She spoke of their love, she and Wes, and humbly spoke of being any ordinary couple with their struggles. She spoke of his simple goodness and gentleness. Of his great love for his children. Of his ultimate concern and respect for her, which allowed their love to grow. In his last months, his greatest concern was Lori. And then she spoke of his love for the gospel. She spoke of him as a part of her, using "we" and "us" always to talk about life. And she ended by bearing his testimony, because he asked her to.

I don't think she ever used the word "I". In fact, I don't know if there was ever even a hint of herself or selfishness in all of the suffering she has endured in the past 5 years. As I looked at her at that pulpit, standing in a white dress, I thought "this is truly an angel. Here is a soul turned inside out".

And so Lori and Wes Truman continue to teach me, and hundreds of others, what it looks like to be completely lost in the service of others and the service of the Lord. I have rarely seen such a greatness of stature and soul as I observed in Wes and Lori Truman.


Thank you, Wes, for the man that you were and are. Your example and life will endure and continue to create a legacy of faith for all those who knew you. And Lori, thank you for being the embodiment of selflessness. For being a witness of what it is like to suffer gracefully, through the Grace of Christ.

"From an eternal perspective, the only death that is truly premature is the death of one who is not prepared to meet God" Russell M. Nelson

"Christians never say goodbye!" CS Lewis

-Nicole