So...I'm back from dad's funeral. Although it was unexpected, I know from Mike's blessing to me that it was his time to go. Also, the night before, my mother had opened her genealogy on the computer and found 'deceased' written next to dad's name. Shocked, she refreshed it and it changed to, "living'. He passed out from a blood clot to the lungs. He was a month away from being 93 and had lived with early stages of dementia for the last few years. That, plus his hip replacement rehabilitation and the fact that he had passed out and fallen to hurt his back a week before, plus his prescribed liquid diet due to his esophagus being so narrow no food could go down it, had been physically and emotionally draining on my mother. In some sense, it was a relief to know he not suffering and in a better place. I was happy that each of my children came down to the funeral that could.
My mother wants you all to send her your memories of him. I remember his smile. I remember he loved the outdoors and the Boy Scouts of America. He was always helping someone or some troop with scouts. He loved to hear us play the piano and sing. He loved to put us on his crossed knee and swing us up and down as he sang out "Ride, ride a runkin," a Danish nursery rhyme. When we left the table we had to say, "Tak for Math" and he would respond, "Vel become di.' He loved to tell stories and would tell/read with great expression. I especially recall the Danish silverware with Hans Christian Anderson stories carved on each end. We would go around the table to tell the stories.
My dad didn't compliment or praise openly, but I remember when I was a choir director as a teenager, that he came to sing in it and made sure everyone in our family came to sing and support me. I remember coming out of an interview with the bishop as a 21-yr. old, relieved that the bishop had been inspired to NOT call me on a mission (as was his intention) and me telling my father that I would not have been a good missionary because I feared meeting people...and being shocked to hear him tell me that I would have been a great missionary because I always give more than 100% to every calling and that would overcome any fear I had. He loved music. I do not recall ever missing a family home evening; they were held like clockwork, even before the manuals were published. I do not recall missing family scripture reading. Every morning, we were up and reading. Every Sunday, we told what we learned about in church and read the scriptures. I do not remember ever missing Family prayer. It was every morning and every night. My dad obeyed the commandments. We actually took piano lessons and were instructed in music conducting as a result of his direct obedience to a church bulletin asking parents to instruct their children in both of those skills. He loved the scriptures and could recite them and quote a reference at the drop of a word. He would tell us his testimony and the miracles in his life as he followed the Holy Ghost.
He loved to learn. When he retired, he would study up on his 'hobbies' so that he became experts in gardening, baking bread, food storage, genealogy, as well as everything scouting. He would go to the library and county extension meetings to learn more and often end up instructing those who came because he knew things the instructor didn't.
He always had to be busy. I know in the latter years you always saw him sitting and snoozing, but when I knew him, he didn't know how to relax; he always had to be doing. He was a District President, a stake president's counselor, a bishop, a branch president twice, and had numerous scouting callings among some of them. He was a leader. He always went home teaching with my brothers. He gave us priesthood blessings. Although he wasn't perfect; (his temper) the things he did that were right overcame the things that were wrong.
Since the funeral, these are things I've pondered:
1. I don't communicate with my family enough. The only things that really matter are our relationships...with God/Christ/HG, our spouse/children/parents/siblings, and others. No matter how righteous we are, if we don't have a celestial relationship with someone, we won't want to be with them eternally.
2. What have we done with what we were given?
the gospel --Did we share it? Did we live what we profess?,
our talents--Did we magnify them? Did we use them to serve other people and glorify God?,
our weaknesses--What did we do to overcome our carnal nature or 'thorns in the flesh'? Have we repented?
3. Why do we hang on to things of no value?
New Topic:
One of the things I absolutely love about our new home are the windows--the light that they let in. In our master bathroom there is a huge window. I love it. I am never worried that someone will see me bathe or shower because they would have to be in our fenced side yard to see anything, plus the window is translucent, textured glass to block a clear image. Nevertheless, color and shapes are clear enough.
Well, yesterday, I was showering late, got out of the shower, and looked in the mirror to reflect a blue pole with a white swab on the end, cleaning around and across the window. Yikes! I grabbed a towel and lit out of the bathroom as fast as I could. Who would be cleaning my bathroom window? Was it a 'Peeping Tom'? As I rapidly clothed, I heard each window of my house being cleaned. Who was cleaning the outside of my windows? Was there even a service to do so? Would Mike pay someone to clean our windows without telling me? I don't think so.
I peeked out the front door and saw a pest control van. I wrote the name down in case they were not a valid company. Later, I went outside and discovered an itemized bill on our door handle for their work.Yep. You guessed it. Quarterly, without fore-notice, they clean all the windows, around all the openings of our home, and in the pre-created openings of the home. (part of the subdivision requirements???) Guess I'll be watching the calendar a bit more...or taking better note of the time of day.
