The Love of a Mother

I wrote the following story this morning about my father for the McCauley side of the family.  Yet, there is more to the story.  I didn't realize until I arrived home in June 1977 what an impact this whole ordeal had had on my dear mother, Bertha Bee Leonard McCauley.  I am an only child.  Therefore, my mother dealt with everything on her own.  There were other family members who stepped in and supported my parents, but my mom had no immediate family with her--namely, me.  When my plane from Ecuador touched down in SLC in June 1977, my mom literally ran out to the plane (that was when someone could still do that).  We spent the whole night crying as my mother related everything to me.  My love for my mother grew leaps and bounds that night for the sacrifice SHE made so I could continue to serve in Ecuador. 




When I left on my LDS mission to Ecuador in October 1975 my dad wasn't feeling well, but we just thought it was something like the flu. Because he didn't seem to be getting better, the doctors continued to do some testing. In April I was called from Quevedo to the mission home in Quito and was told that my father had cancer, and they were only giving him 6 months to live. I was devastated. My mission president, President Heward, said that the area president had discussed my situation and felt that I should stay in the mission field. Needless to say, I spent a sleepless night--crying and praying and praying and crying. How was I going to tell my father that I wasn't coming home? He was not even LDS. How would he ever understand? Before I could call him the next morning, my dad called me. He told me that I needed to stay right where I was. I am writing this account 39 years later, and I am crying as I write this because of the great love and sacrifice of my father. He did die, as the doctors predicted, in October 1976. I anxiously wait for the day I can see him again!