I was waiting for the news. I would check the church website everyday for news of his passing. I knew it would come soon. I was dreading hearing or reading about President Hinckley's death. I knew that there would be tears. I knew my heart would be heavy. He was the prophet during the years of my growth into adulthood, into motherhood, through my mission and through many trials. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle the sadness and dreaded the day when he was taken from us.... and then.... Sunday night, the phone rang. Nick's grandma informed us that he had passed an hour earlier. I didn't cry, I didn't feel sad at all. I called and told my family members with almost nonchalance. Over the passed few days I had been wondering why there was not one drop of sorrow in my heart. Then as I was blow-drying my hair this morning, tears filled my eyes as I began thinking about him and the welcome and the reunion that he was receiving. This great man who graced this earth for almost 100 years, touched countless lives. This temple-building prophet with his eyes fixed on the eterneties was being rejoiced and embraced with incomprehensible love and devotion by concourses of people. There is singing and rejoicing. There is the reuniting with his life companion and sweetheart.... Then I realized why I wasn't sad. How could I feel one drop of sorrow when all I was feeling was the rejoicing that is going on on the other side of death? Nobody deserves the peace and joy that death brings more than he. I am motivated to live a better life. To focus on the things of eternity. To love more fiercely and serve more diligently. His wit and humor will definitely leave it mark on me as I look forward to his successor.