Dear Riley,
I’m literally chasing wifi bars in my hotel room, stealthily walking about with the laptop like a wifi hunter. That’s just one of images of me you should take from this week. I’m also sleep deprived and find making even little decisions complicated, so apologies ahead of time.
Grandpa’s funeral was great. The chapel was full and out into the overflow like a Stake Conference meeting. I had mentioned singing Pilgrim Song and hoped it would work out. It was beautiful! The accompaniment was terribly difficult and there was short notice. But L and MS, whose cottage we often stayed in when we came to California, have a daughter-in-law who graduated in organ performance. BS and his wife P were in Utah taking care of a grandbaby while Grandpa was passing and he came to say his goodbyes to Grandpa. They ended up in our church services last week and I happened to see them and really the Spirit said to me as I observed him speaking to Grandma: he is a S, go greet them. She agreed to take on the piece which I had purchased the day before, for some whisper.
There was no time to practice as a group aside from Saturday morning when we’d all be in town. So we arrived 30 minutes late, but were still among the first. We starting working on the piece and I had just a little fear that we couldn’t do it. But I kept pressing, as I’m known to do, and the group humored me. We decided to practice with the recording of Cambry’s choir singing the song and it went so well, we used that as our “accompaniment” with the mic on an ipad speaker and sang the song. PS also has a beautiful voice and sang in the tenors. AK’s fiancee R, I don’t know if you remember her but you met her at Grandpa’s 90th birthday party, was trained in vocal performance and she sang like an angel next to me. Dad prayed a little into the practice and asked that angels would sing with us and it was confirmed that they would. I feel gratified in every way. Truth conveyed through music carries an additional witness, I’m certain.
I had another tender mercy there. As we started to practice, I noticed that there was a personal mini hymnbook on the piano with Grandpa’s name and address adhered to the leather cover. I picked it up and treasured it. We had to run back to the hotel a couple miles away between the practice and the viewing because I’d not changed out of my flip flops, as I’m known to do in the summer at times. And Dad needed to get his hair gooped up. We raced back, but still missed the family prayer since the clock in their room was 5 minutes ahead. That was disappointing as we were so close and could see the bowed heads, but could not go in.
We walked in with the family and took our seats and I looked over the program. I noticed that I was supposed to lead the music. I could have been told and just not worried about it at the time, but it was a surprise to me. So I went up on the stand and picked up the nearest hymnal only to discover that it was HYMNOS - Spanish. I started searching from my seat up in front of everyone and there were only Spanish editions. But don’t worry: I had Grandpa’s little hymnal in my hand. Little mercies.
They buried Grandpa with military honors. He served many years in the war in several decisive battles on a ship that never lost one crew member. As they played taps at the military it was so touching.
Grandpa was mentioned in our other meetings today both in the youth classes and in RS. That along with the trip through his house and possessions has me thinking about what we leave behind. Grandpa left books everywhere, and a majority of those books are on church subjects. He liked to start his reading with a fresh set of scriptures that he could mark up with new insights. There are hundreds of sets of scriptures, well-worn. There are notes and poems and impressions, meticulously recorded in his handwriting. There’s a lot of stuff, to be sure. But there is no question, based on what your great grandpa left behind that his treasures were the words of God. He is a convert to the gospel, but he has laid a foundation of faith which blessed so many. My prayer for this trip was that my children would come to know some of their heritage. How could they not? The evidence is overwhelming in what he left behind.
Other things also happened this week. But they seem a blur. I helped a little with TH’s brother’s wedding reception. Her new sister-in-law’s mother had a heart transplant maybe two months ago and K offered to help with the reception. At book group at my house we all offered to help her and I gave her the pulled pork recipe among others and priced, ordered and picked up the pork and rolls and made caramel sauce for cheesecake.. The event was remarkable. She is probably even more ambitious than I am, that’s saying something, huh?
We’re staying in the same hotel as the P’s and actually brought S with us because he was at EFY in Provo last week. That was great for Parker. Plus he is in a room with the P boys, yeah, it’s pretty much heaven for him. Not really. Company wise he’s in heaven, but room wise… you get the idea. He’s killed a cockroach, their room was thick with competing air fresheners to the point of choking a person the first night. JM kept looking at me anticipating my mask to break into laughter about the good joke I’d pulled. Yet here we are!
I love you Riley. You have a noble heritage which I hope you will always honor. Have a wonderful week, son.
Love,
Mom
PS - Tonight when we came home from Grandpa's, Josie was filthy. So I showered her in my hotel room. At first she was apprehensive about the process. Part way through, she noted that showering works a lot like a car wash. Then when we were finished, she said, "Ah, that shower really relaxed me." I affirmed that showers are indeed very relaxing. Then I asked her what it means to be relaxed. She explained, "It's like. You take a deep breath in. And you hold it for a while. And then you let it out. Then you're relaxed. It feels so good."
Wish we could transcribe her life!
Love ya,
Mom
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