Lessons Taught

We were sitting in the living room in the house where I grew up: a conversation between a kid and his granddad. I had just graduated from high school and was feeling pressure from every which way to get a job and start saving for a two-year mission to a place at that point known only to One. Don't rush getting a job just yet, Leon. Once you start working, you'll be working for the rest of your life. Although the parents probably didn't appreciate this advice, I sure did. I spent 2 of the next 4 weeks at Lake Powell, burst an ear drum, played a lot of Final Fantasy 7 or maybe 8, and finally found a job working graveyard shift as a night stocker.

Approximately 13 years earlier, I was taught another magnificent truth: Chuck-A-Rama. For those of you that don't know, it's a glorious buffet from whence most Utahans obtain those extra pounds that keep them warm during the cold winter months. For a 5-year-old on his birthday, it was like walking into a land full of macaroni & cheese, chocolate milk, and endless desserts, for that is exactly what it is. Leon, you must eat a bowl of ice cream before and after each course, including dessert. It preps the stomach. Again, something the parents may not have appreciated. Something my stomach may not currently appreciate; regardless, I still take his advice to heart each time I eat at a buffet.

After my dad rolled an ankle right before a fathers-and-sons outing, he stepped in as proxy. There were two valuable lessons learned: 1) a hotdog is called a tube steak, and 2) if someone threatens you with a knife, it's not tattling to tell someone, such as an adult. We camped in some campground called The Old Church (which, I admit, freaked me out), roasted tube steaks on the fire, I played hide-and-go-seek with some other boys, one (punk) of which threatened me with his pocket knife, and we spent the night in the back of his old yellow Chevy Silverado on top of wooden closet doors, and I listened to him snore all night. I kept a watchful eye outside the window directly at the old church to make sure no ghouls came to attack us. I hate ghouls.

This morning that man was called on his next mission: to rejoin with his kin and close friends, to rest from his earthly labors, and to continue sharing the good news of the gospel to those in need. Poppy, I love you and I will miss you! Thanks for the support you always gave me and all of the invaluable lessons you taught! And if you get the chance, let me know if they have ice cream in heaven. Until we meet again.