
A week ago last Thursday my dad died. He was driving on I-15 southbound near the 33rd south exit. He had a heart attack, and in all that pain was still worried about the people around him and had enough sense during a heart attack and strength to pull the car off the freeway during rush hour without hitting anybody.
What a hero! In my mind at least that is what he is.
At his funeral, I talked about how there are certain people in everyone's life probably, that you think won't ever really die. There is so much I have learned about my dad, since this all happened. I was completely dreading the viewing especially. I never really was able to grasp the concept of a viewing. I thought it was a pretty morbid tradition. After we held one for my dad though my heart overfilled with gratitude for that tradition.
It was scheduled to last from 6-8pm Monday night and we were there until 10pm. The line was so long, and everyone that came through shared their stories and memories they had of my dad. I am SO proud of him. Of who he is and all the people he helped. I walked away from the viewing that night feeling like a knew him a little better. Most of the service he did for people he never talked about. He wasn't that kind of person. What a great man.
I wondered, when I lost someone close to me if I would ever question the gospel, and the things I believe in. I thought it might, but it honestly hasn't. I feel like he is still around for sure, I just can't see him. And don't get me wrong because I would LOVE to see him. -I am just really thankful that this isn't the end. That there will be a day when I get to hug him and tell him I love him and I will get to see him again. I am so grateful to the Savior for making that possible. I can't think of a greater gift.