One of my earliest memories is of sitting on the floor in a nook of our kitchen with my back to the wall, the end of the cabinets to my right, and the  freezer to my left.  I was listening to my parents and their visiting friends as they sat at the kitchen table.  I marveled as their voices began droning, and their words became indistinguishable.  I fell asleep.  My next conscious moment was of waking up in my own bed.  How I got there, I didn't know; but I assume that my father must have picked me up and put me there.

I imagine that death will be like that.  I'll go to sleep, and wake up in the room where I'm supposed to be.  That's a comforting thought, so much so, that I don't dread death in the least.

Doctrine and Covenants 42:46 says that "it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them."  That is comforting.  I like sweet.

And then what?  Alma says that an angel informed him that "the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life.

"And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow."  (Alma 40:11-12).

This is also comforting.  I relish the words happiness, rest, and peace.

Alma continues:  "And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of the wicked, yea, who are evil--for behold, they have no part nor portion of the Spirit of the Lord; for behold, they chose evil works rather than good; therefore the spirit of the devil did enter into them, and take possession of their house--and these shall be cast out into outer darkness; there shall be weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, and this because of their own iniquity, being led captive by the will of the devil.

"Now this is the state of the souls of the wicked, yea, in darkness, and a state of awful, fearful looking for the fiery indignation of the wrath of God upon them; thus they remain in this state, as well as the righteous in paradise, until the time of their resurrection."  (Alma 40:13-14).

Those verses are disquieting.  I don't like the words darkness, devil, and captive.

What will we be doing there?   Wilford Woodruff was privileged to have a look into the Spirit World.  He reported:

"Joseph Smith continued visiting myself and others up to a certain time and then stopped. The         last time I saw him was in heaven. He came and spoke to me. He said that he could not stop to talk to me because he was in a hurry. The next man I met was Father Smith; he couldn’t talk to me because he was in a hurry. I met a half a dozen brethren who held high positions on earth, and none of them could stop to talk with me because they were in a hurry. I was much astonished.

     "By and by I saw the Prophet again, and I got the privilege to ask him a question. 'Now,' said I, 'I want to know why you are in a hurry? I have been in a hurry all my life, but I expected my hurry would be over when I got into the Kingdom of heaven, if I ever did.'

     "Joseph said, 'I will tell you, Brother Woodruff, every dispensation that has had the priesthood on earth and has gone into the celestial kingdom, has had a certain amount of work to do to prepare to go to the earth with the Savior when He goes to reign on earth. Each dispensation has had ample time to do this work. We have not. We are the last dispensation and so much work has to be done and we need to be in a hurry in order to accomplish it.'

     "Of course that was satisfactory with me, but it was new doctrine to me. (Discourse delivered at Weber Stake Conference, Ogden, 19 October 1896; as published in Deseret News Weekly, vol. 53, no. 21.)

That establishes the fact that the spirits in the paradise side of the Spirit World will be busy, with plenty of things to do.  That is supported by a story told to me by my friend, Hal Bunderson, a sealer with whom I worked in the Boise Temple.  He told about his niece who was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer when she was pregnant with her second child.  Her doctor counseled her to abort the baby because the hormones that accompany pregnancy would make the cancer grow faster.  She refused the abortion, had the baby, and passed away soon after.

Her two little children went to the care of her sister.  It was a big job.  One day the deceased sister came to the living sister, and said, "I have been permitted to come and answer your questions."

The living sister asked, "Was a mistake made?"

"No.  No mistake was made."

"What about your little girls?"

"I'm with them every day."

"Where do you live?"

"I live with Grandma and Grandpa, but I don't see very much of them.  They leave hand in hand early in the morning, and don't return until late."

It would be interesting to know what Grandma and Grandpa, Joseph Smith, and the other brethren do every day; but from this story we can at least deduce that the deceased mother was occupied with the care of her children.  She was being a genuine guardian angel.

I told this story to my sister, Ellen.  She became tearful, and told me a story of her own.  Her daughter, Mary, took a job as a teacher at Burnt River High School, and left her toddler, Madi, in the care of a young baby sitter each day.  One day while at school, Mary became uneasy about her baby, left school, and went home.  She found little Madi in a deplorable, uncared-for state.  She fired the baby sitter on the spot, and then began quizzing little Madi about what had taken place.

Little Madi could not talk much, but had the ability to recognize and remember people with whom she interacted.  She could name them.  She also had another grandmother who was worried about her, and who regularly prayed that departed loved ones would watch over this little girl.  Mary asked Madi, by name, if various people from the other side of the veil had helped her.  She got no response until she asked, "Did Grandma Kerns (my mother) help you?"

"Grawndma Terns!" Madi repeated affirmatively.

This is the same woman who was beside herself with worry over her son (me) who was in the U.S. Navy in the Far East during the Vietnam War.  Compounding her worries was the fact that the sister ship to my USS Banner was captured by North Korea as I was heading to Japan to board the Banner.  The crew was held captive for 400 days.  She prayed for the safety of her son.  The crowning spiritual experience of her life was the night when her deceased father came and sat on the edge of her bed, and announced that "You don't need to worry about Jamie.  He's going to be all right."  She ceased to worry about me.  She went to Baker the next day to call on Marjorie and her mother to inform them about her experience so that they wouldn't worry, either.

Because of this story I have always felt a special affinity for my Grandfather McCornack.  He knew what I was doing, knew that I was going to be all right, was keeping track of me, and was probably in a position to be of help to me when I particularly needed it.

From these stories I gather that the righteous dead have things to do, and are busily engaged in important matters.  I think that it may be a different case for those who are in the spirit prison.  Section 138 of the Doctrine and Covenants informs us that the righteous dead are organized in paradise, and sent as missionaries to teach those in the spirit prison who still have their repentance and conversion to attend to.  Learning and repenting are their most important pursuits.  Beyond that, they may not have much to do that's meaningful.

To illustrate, I will repeat a story told to me by Ted Peterson, a man who would sometimes accompany me to the Boise Temple when I went to work my regular shift.  While on his mission, as a young man, he and his companion tracted a 50-house subdivision of 5-acre lots.  They walked the entire neighborhood where they were spit upon, and where dogs were set on them.  At the next-to-last house a nice man answered the door and said that he wasn’t interested in their message, but he supposed that the people across the street would be.

The missionaries crossed the street to the last house in the subdivision and knocked on the door.  The woman who answered had just one question:  “Do you believe that anything can be done to help the dead?”

“Yes, we do,” came the reply.

The woman grabbed hold of the elder and said, “Come in!  I need to talk to you.”

She proceeded to tell of a recurring dream she had.  In the dream she saw her deceased son sitting alone on a hill looking forlorn.  He’d say to his mother, “Mom, you’re my only hope!”

The woman didn’t know what the dream meant, but the message was real, and she knew there was something she was supposed to do for her deceased son.  The elders spent that discussion teaching about work for the dead, and then gave the other discussions later.  The woman, her husband, and a son were baptized.

A year later my friend, the missionary, had the privilege of being proxy in the temple for the deceased son as he was sealed to his parents.  The next morning my friend got a call from the woman.  She told him that in the night her son had come to her.  He was surrounded by people.  He thanked her for what she had done, and said that he was no longer alone, and could finally go to work.  He left with the group, smiling and happy.

These are the few things that I know and feel about death and about where we go when we die.  I'm dying to know what goes on over there, but that's what I'll probably have to do before I find out.  Death is an event in life, and if one has kept the commandments, it is not an event to be dreaded.