My sweet Dad died on March 11, 2011. The same day as the record breaking Japanese earthquake. I've wondered if there was some cosmic connection somehow. He'd talked with the nurse about getting the Jazz game on after supper, had walked down to supper with an aide, had taken a few bites, slumped to the side a bit (like he does when he falls asleep), the aide came to straighten him back up and he was gone. Just like that. 97 years old on Jan. 23. We wish we could keep him around, but not in that body. I know he's free to dance and is so glad to reunite with my mom, Gracie, his parents and siblings. Gracie's granddaughter Dana said she could just picture it: Gracie saying, "Weeell, what took you so long?" I think he'll always have tender feelings for her, but I know he was looking forward to seeing mom. Grace softened him around the edges and he's a better man for his years with her. I can just picture him organizing all the dead coming from Japan and getting work projects for them going. He's helping to get all those Stake Presidents and Bishops going to take care of them all. And he's loving being useful again. He lived to serve and now he can again. How grateful I am for him and his example of enduring until the end. I got to see how it's done, now it's up to me to follow that example.
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