six years later.

Dad in St. Thomas

2006

I realized this week that I've had my email account since late 2004, so I dug around today looking for old

emails and stumbled across some from my dad. I was reminded of three things: he called me Red, he loved me, and he was full of faith. This little excerpt is from an email he sent to a former boy scout of his while he was fighting cancer.

“Through my quest to understand the question, ‘Heavenly Father, why me…why do I get a trial which seems so difficult to endure?’  I decided to pray (which prayers have been many) along with a lot of study and programs on the BYU TV channel.  In Elder Neal Maxwell’s biography, the story of his getting cancer was related.  Elder Neal Maxwell went through 46 days of chemo therapy during 1997 after being diagnosed with acute leukemia.  On about day 40, he was so weak that he could hardly talk or move.  At this point he whispered the following to a good friend who was visiting him: ‘Get me a jersey, let me play for this team, or let me play for the other team (other side of the veil)….just get me into the game!’

“I concluded that I could do one of three things:

1. Turn from my faith, blame God;

2.  Give up and feel sorry for myself and let the cancer do its thing; or

3.  Follow Elder Maxwell’s example and let the spirit enlarge my soul, serve my Heavenly Father with all my heart and fight this cancer so that if it is His will I might be cured.  But if not, I know that if I endure it well, my family and I will be blessed eternally.

“Obviously, I chose the third alternative!  I have a Jersey and I am in the Game!

"…My spirit has been enlarged and I feel comfortable that no matter the outcome, as in the hymn: Come, Come Ye Saints….'All is well.'  I KNOW all will be well.  It’s a win-win game.”

Today marks six years since he passed away, so I’m feeling a little introspective and reminiscent. I’m also feeling very grateful for the little gems he left behind (besides his kids, because we are gems, danget!). It was nice to stumble across some emails and hear, in a way, his voice again, and learn from his experiences, because it’s easy to forget these seemingly little things as the years go by. But then again, every once in a while I think I hear a whisper that says he's still around, and I remember.

Love you, Dad.