My Trip to Nauvoo for Mom

Yvonne Derelys Plaskett in 1959

On Mother's Day, I had planned to write something about my mother, which never really materialized. I have had a bit of writer's block ever since that time. As Mom had to assume some of the role of being a father to me as well as a mother, I decided that this Father's Day might be a reasonably appropriate time to share some new things about her. The following is a letter I wrote to The First Presidency a little over six years ago.

April 13, 2003

The First Presidency
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
50 East North Temple Street
Salt Lake City, Utah 84150

Dear Brethren:

I am writing this letter to make a request, but ask that you first endure a story.

Like many people, when it was announced that the Nauvoo Temple was to be rebuilt, the Spirit moved me, tears filled my eyes, and genuine enthusiasm for the undertaking resided within, from the moment the announcement was made through the time of dedication itself. Originally, I had even envisioned participating in the dedication on the Nauvoo Temple grounds, but later resolved to do so at my local Stake Center in Mesa, Arizona.

As things turned out, however, I watched the dedication in the Tucson Rincon Stake Center. A good friend gave me a handkerchief to wave during the Hosanna Shout, which I did wave as I joined in chorus with you and all others present that day to mark the sacred and momentous occasion. I was so grateful to be there.

Something else sacred and momentous happened earlier that day. My mother died. Having suffered a stroke in April, she finally succumbed to its after effects on the morning of June 27th, 2002 at a Tucson hospital. I was there with her when she passed on. I held her during her last living moments, placed my mouth near her left ear, reminded her of the many who loved her, and haltingly sang "God Be With You Till We Meet Again." I trusted that she could indeed hear me, and that somehow, my voice and the Spirit’s voice would comfort her during this time of passing—a time that she had feared for many years.

Symbolically anticipating her resurrection, prior to her burial, I placed the same handkerchief in Mom’s hand that I had used to join in the Hosanna Shout for the dedication of the Nauvoo Temple. Now, my hope is that you will grant me permission to complete my mother’s temple work for her in that very temple on June 27th, 2003—exactly one year from the day she passed away.

My mother, Yvonne Derelys Plaskett Sylvester, was baptized a member of the Church in approximately 1960. I was born in 1961. Though a convert, showing initial promise to fully embrace the gospel, Mom was offended by actions taken by her Bishop that involved me. She reported that because I was conceived out of wedlock, I was given a name and a blessing in the Bishop’s office, while another, presumably more deserving mother had her child blessed in front of the congregation. I do not know if this incident really happened as she said it did, but to her it was real and very hurtful. It gave her all the cause she needed to become disillusioned with the Church and to later leave it before developing a strong understanding and testimony of the gospel.

When I was about 14 years old, my mother again contacted the Church in Sparks, Nevada during a period of extreme difficulty. Eventually, she invited me to learn about the gospel from the missionaries. I had not known of the Church up to that point in my life, but as a result of our tenuous circumstances, I sought to please her and was soon baptized after having taken the discussions, though my participation lacked any evidence of personal interest or conviction.

My mother’s own testimony was weak during that time as well. Having suffered through the effects of years of alcoholism, she either began to drink again, or had never really quite stopped from the time she renewed her acquaintance with the Church. Within a few months of my own baptism, we hit the road yet another time. Approximately three years later, having traveled many miles through many states, and having experienced difficulties I can no longer remember in full, Mom was excommunicated. Though she attempted to regain her membership blessings within the first year or two of her excommunication, she never did prove a lasting commitment to the gospel.

In her latter years, I could discern Mom’s longing desires for a more gospel-centered life. I believe the Spirit tried to inspire her towards righteousness and peace, but Mom’s pride for past hurts kept her from seriously pursuing and understanding the gospel. And, while she had successfully overcome the addiction of alcohol a full ten years before she died, she was not so successful with overcoming tobacco, which addiction she fed constantly, beginning at age 15. To her credit, she quit smoking in full for approximately a year. Unfortunately, she began smoking again about nine months prior to her stroke. During the three months between her stroke and her death, she was free from the addiction of tobacco, but its effects had already become firmly and irrevocably manifested.

There is much more to my mother’s story that you may read if you wish from the pages of her eulogy, enclosed within. Basically, though, I will tell you that my mother had difficult beginnings that put her on a nomadic course through life, which continued to be fraught with difficulty. She made many poor choices of her own accord. She never quite figured out the truth of the gospel for herself in such a way that compelled and propelled comprehensive change, and which offered lasting peace.

Even so, she was intuitively a good women with a giving spirit about her. Many people enjoyed her company and her generosity under very financially humble circumstances. She genuinely loved others, and others loved her in return. She took comfort in priesthood blessings and had her life extended because of those blessings. She was grateful for prayers I offered before meals that we shared, and once—a very special once—she even offered a tender, vocal prayer herself in my presence. Though substantially weak, she exercised what faith she possessed, and overcame much in the process.

I trust that the Lord’s grace will indeed bridge the gap between where my mother left off in her spiritual journey and where the Lord is. I know that He will increase her understanding of truth, her sense of true belonging, and her ultimate rest and peace. It is my hope that you will feel she is prepared enough at this point to receive the opportunity to accept Temple ordinances that will restore her privileges and expand her eternal possibilities.

It is my understanding that one typically waits one year following the death of a loved one before making a request such as I am asking. However, given the symbolic circumstances and time period surrounding my mother’s death, and given the logistics of making travel arrangements and plans for such an event, I respectfully request that you proffer your decision much quicker than the typical request.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I am so appreciative of your service in my behalf. Your love for this work and your love for all people are wondrous to behold and strengthen me personally. I know you are led to do only that which is right and wise. Thus, whatever your decision, I will honor it with respect and a grateful heart.

Affectionately,

Jacqueline J. Hancock

Gratefully, authorization for baptism was indeed given. Nearly six years ago, I was baptized for my mother on the morning of June 27, 2003 in the Nauvoo Temple--not only one year exactly from the date of her passing, but almost one year to the hour as well.

It was a beautiful and peaceful day.

 

A photo I took of the Nauvoo Temple in June 2003