Grandpa

My Grandpa passed away on Wednesday, April 13th. He was diagnosed with cancer nearly a year ago. They tried a few different types of chemotherapy and treatment, but the cancer continued to grow. My mom and her sister's decided that it would be best for him to be home at the end. The three of them, along with my Grandmother, were by his bedside when he left this world. Thank heaven for hospice nurses that do their job with such care so that people can have this type of opportunity. We were extremely blessed to have my cousin's husband, Ed, take care of my Grandpa. I had the chance to stand by his bedside on Monday and say Goodbye. While he wasn't awake, I really felt like he could hear me and be there with me. It was one of the most tender experiences I've had, and I'm so grateful to have been able to be there.

I was also able to be there on Wednesday night before he left, but I didn't feel his presence as strong as a few nights prior. As I sat and talked with my Grandma, siblings, mom, and aunts, I thought of the movie "Lars and the Real Girl" (which sounds like a strange premise, but is such an adorable, tender movie). There's a scene in the movie when Lars's "girlfriend" is dying and the women of the town come to his house bearing casseroles and just hang around while working on their knitting. When Lars asks what they are doing, the women say "sitting." They explain that's what people do when there's a death-they sit; they are simply there to be with those that are bereaved. That's what we did. We sat. Occasionally, we cut a sandwich up to share. While we were there, we talked about Grandpa's life and all of our memories: profound, happy, difficult, funny. My mom and her sister's planned his funeral and wrote the obituary. We scoured through photo albums and laughed at old fashions or found images that sparked memories we had forgotten. Those few hours that I spent at my grandparent's house this week are moments that I will treasure the rest of my life.

While we were talking, my aunt explained how Ed would come over and explain the stage that my grandpa was currently in and then explain the signs for the next "phase." My aunt commented how death is sort of like a birth. There are distinct phases. We exist in one "phase" and wait for the next one. For some, it goes quickly; for others, it moves slowly. For some, there is not much pain involved; for others, the suffering is great and difficult. We talked about how death really is a second birth, and I think in the end, although we may have been a little sad for us that we have to live in a world without him, we were happy for him. His parents, his siblings, and his baby boy (along with countless family members and friends) were waiting for him. When we were little, my grandparents would take us to Escalante (their home town in Southern Utah). We are pretty much related to the entire town, so the whole vacation was like a giant family reunion. I will never forget the way both of my grandparents would light up around their family and as they took us to all their favorite childhood places. They were never happier then when they were home. Now that my grandpa truly is "home," I just picture him with his hand on everyone's shoulders, giving them the "side hug" and sloppy kiss and smiling so big that he kind of chuckles. I will miss him terribly, but I am happy for him. I am happy that it doesn't have to be so difficult anymore.

Several months ago, when the doctor's decided that there was nothing more that could be done for the cancer, and it became apparent that we would lose my grandpa soon, I realized how strange it will be to live in a world without him. I truly believe that grandparents are one of God's greatest gifts. I've definitely noticed this with my own children. My parents and Greg's parents are able to love my kids so completely and unconditionally. I felt that so strongly from my grandpa. I know my parents love me, but it's a more complicated type of love. I don't know that anybody loved me the way my grandpa did. I felt so adored by him. He was my biggest cheerleader, and when I faced challenges (of my own creation or just what life handed me), he didn't sugar coat it, but he made me feel like I could conquer it. He had so much confidence in me. He always saw the good-the potential. I know he'll keep loving me and helping me. Maybe one day I can actually be the person that he saw.

Some cute pictures of Grandpa in Escalante as a kid:

And I just love this picture. This is Grandpa with his daughter, my Aunt Jeri:

For some reason, I am having a difficult time finding a picture of us. Some of my favorite memories include:

• Camping. I remember camping at Bear Lake and at the reservoir in Escalante. He used to take us fishing. I remember being so fascinated while he gutted and cleaned the fish. Then, we would pile around the picnic table and eat the fish, while being warned to look for bones. I remember climbing and hiking all over the hills around the campsite. Grandpa always told this story about me: He said that I was probably about 4 or 5 when I came tearing down the hill into the camp so excited. I told him that I saw a dinosaur! I said, "Well, it was either a dinosaur or a lizard." He laughed and laughed every time he told that story.

• Singing. My grandpa always had is guitar out. I remember sitting in the condo in Bear Lake. It was before Gavin was born, so I was probably 5 or 6 years old. I remember him sitting in the chair teaching me the words to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." When I got older, he would always strum the guitar and say, "How about a song or two." He would tap his foot, and the actual beat was not that important. He just loved it and felt it deep inside. I still sing all those songs to my kids. If you happen to hear my kids start singing "Into a Lake," a darling little song about skinny-dipping, you can know that it comes from Grandpa and we all love it! Whenever we sang in church, or recital, or competition, Grandma and Grandpa were always there-tape recorder in hand (even in Sacrament Meeting). After we would sing, Grandpa was always there to put his arm around our necks, give us a slobbery kiss, and offer some sort of a compliment such as: "Dammit, you sound good" or "My hell, you sure can sing."

• Dinner. Growing up, we ate Sunday dinner together all the time! In the winter, we would pile around their table and Grandpa would wipe our hands and faces down before we were allowed to get down.He was truly passionate about clean hands and faces. All of my cousins laugh about how hard he would wipe. In the summer, we often set up the picnic table in the backyard. We played H.O.R.S.E. afterward or a little wiffleball. Sometimes, we would help harvest the peaches, raspberries, or cherries. We would all beg and plead with Grandpa to let us climb up the tall branches of the cherry tree, but he never let us. I can still picture him standing up there. Of course we would eat as we would go. I remember the year that we had all eaten buckets full before we realized they had worms. And we often had water fights. I remember one year, my grandpa was chasing me. Being the smartalec that I was, I ran in the house and shut the screen door behind me. He ran right through it. He wasn't even mad (although I'm pretty sure my parents were); I remember him sitting on the floor just laughing and laughing.

• Boating. My grandpa had a boat. There were lots and lots and lots of safety rules, but we spent so many hours at Echo, Bear Lake, and Lake Powell. I remember when he tried to teach me to waterski for the first time. We were at Bear Lake (freezing). He gave me the instructions, and at the end he said, "Whatever you do, don't let go!" I yelled "Hit it" and the boat pulled me up and right over on my belly. But I didn't let go. I just held on for my life. It seems like forever, but for a few seconds at least, I let the boat drag me on the water on my stomach with water splashing all over my face because Grandpa said not to let go!!! Grandpa always slept in the boat, and being one of the oldest grandkids, sometimes I got to sleep with him. I remember Amy (my cousin) and I sleeping out with him. I bet we drove him crazy, but we felt so lucky to get to sleep on the boat!

• Hard work and ice cream. My grandpa worked very hard his entire life. He often worked several jobs, and was always "fixing" something. He felt a great responsibility to pass that on to us. He would always say to us, "You aren't better than anybody else; but you're no worse either." He always told us that no matter what we were doing, it was important that we do our best. "If you do your best, then you never have to be ashamed." My cousin said that Grandpa once told her, "Whatever you do in life, do your best. The world needs good garbage men just as much as it needs good doctors." Grandpa also liked to play hard. At the end of every occasion, we had ice cream. Ice cream sundaes. Ice cream cones. Root beer floats. And we usually had several flavors to choose from.

Love you so much, Grandpa. Thank you for such beautiful memories. I will miss you.