Music and the Spirit

This past week I was able to go to Utah to help visit my Mom and help Sue take care of the multitude of details that have to be attended to after a death. I had a sweet experience I'd like to share with you.


I first need to introduce you to Aloha, my Mom's roommate who also suffers from Alzheimer's. Aloha is about 5 feet tall. She has a hunched back, maybe from osteoporosis, and she can't speak very clearly. I have never seen her smile, and I have never seen her receive visitors (although I am not able to visit very often.) I didn't know if Aloha could even understand if you spoke to her.


Chad, Abbi and I visited Mom one evening. As usual, Mom expressed her love for us and her happiness that we had come to see her. We began singing songs together - "I Am a Child of God," "Whenever I Hear the Song of a Bird," "Give Said the Little Stream." In the middle of one of these songs, Aloha came in and sat down in an empty chair in Mom's side of the room. She had a big smile on her face. She sat quietly and listened to every song. She had a light in her eyes that I had never seen before. The Spirit was so strong. It was a time of joy.


After we sung about four songs, Aloha, with the peaceful smile on her face, mumbled something, stood up, and walked away. Although Mom's and Aloha's minds don't remember and understand, I know their spirits felt joy that evening. I know mine surely did.

Love from Emily

We received this sweet letter in the mail from our granddaughter Emily. Thank you Emily for thinking of us!

Mourn With Those That Mourn

From the time of Dad's accident to the present, we have been supported by friends and family and Church leaders who were willing to bear our burdens, that they would be light. They mourned with us, and they comforted us. (see Mosiah 18:8-9) Meals were prepared, visits were made, hugs were given, cards were sent, love was extended. And it made all the difference. Our burdens truly were made lighter, and our hearts were filled with love and peace. Our deep thanks to go everyone who reached out to help carry our burden. We will never forget your kindness.

"I go down to my grave with joy."

I felt an overwhelming feeling of peace throughout the experience of Dad's passing away. This feeling brought to my mind Joseph of Egypt's words, "I die, and go unto my fathers; and I go down to my grave with joy." (JST Genesis 50:24) Joseph was able to say that because he had kept God's commandments, he had remained faithful to his covenants in spite of bitter hardship, and because of his righteousness he was able to save his family and a nation from starvation and death. This principle is also found in D&C 42:46: "And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them." I know Dad tried to live his life to qualify for that promise. Although our family shed tears at Dad's passing, there was a feeling of peace and joy for a life well-lived. Now I need to follow his example: to try every day to live close to the Savior, to keep my covenants so I can "go down to my grave with joy."

A Most Sacred Experience

On Tuesday evening at 11:23pm, February 24, my Dad passed away from severe internal injuries sustained in an auto-pedestrian accident, six days before his 89th birthday. When I received the news that he had been hit by a car, I was puzzled. In my mind I pictured him in the back yard working in the garden, and I couldn't quite understand how a car could get to the back yard to hit him. The accident occurred, however, just a few feet from his home as he crossed a busy street on his way to a Church dinner, a walk he had made thousands of times before. His time on the earth was completed, and he had gone on to be with his parents, his sisters and brother, and his two daughters and son who preceeded him in death. I know there was a happy reunion when he arrived.

As I made preparations to go to his funeral, I knew it would be a touching time for our family. I hoped we would be drawn together in love as we remembered his life and how he impacted ours. But by the time the services were over, I was filled to overflowing with love and appreciation for my Dad, our family, and the many kind people who shared our sadness at Dad's death. I remember hearing someone say that it is in death that we come to learn about life. That's how it was for me. The lessons are powerful and sacred. I know I'd heard them all before, but now I feel them. I know my attempts to share them will fall short, but I still will try. I will try to put into words one lesson each day. I don't ever want to forget them.