Good Bye Dad, until we meet again

 

I need to finally do this.
I feel like I have been putting it off

and I can't move forward until I finally get this on my blog.

I have tried several times,

but it just hurts so bad.

Ignoring it seems better...

yet it's not, because it is always there,

waiting.

 

We planned dad's funeral on Sunday, December 22nd

and finished the plans on the 23rd

so we could get home to our kids and try to finish up plans

for Christmas.

 

Christmas was a blur.

I feel bad that it wasn't all together,

but the kids were very understanding.
I was grateful I still saw the sparkle and wonder of Christmas
in my babies eyes.
Because the last thing I wanted was for it to not hold
the wonder, and magic
that it has always held before.
The last thing my dad would want was to ruin this day,
one of his favorite days.
I am already thinking about next year,
knowing that I need to make it really special,
to make up for all we lost this year.
 

The day after Christmas,

we left very early in the morning to be back for his viewing

and funeral.
It was a strange feeling...
wanting to put it off, but also wanting to just get it done.
Knowing that we were going to see him,
to have the privilege of dressing him in his temple clothes.
Yet dreading it so much it physically hurt.
Because once we saw him, it was real.
It was permanent.
He would really be gone.
Gone.
Leaving us behind.
With so many questions unanswered...
  

The funeral was beautiful.

It was everything we had hoped it would be

for the man we all loved and adored.
How could we do anything less.
Everything I am, everything I believe, came from this man.
He gave me the ability to find faith in all he held dear,
and I wanted to be sure that my words accurately described what he meant to me.

My sister, Tammy, spoke also.The fun stories, the happy memories,
And Shalum finished it off with the most wonderful
testimony of the
Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Again...
it was all that he taught us,
all that we learned to hold dear.



 

Tribute to my dad (given at his funeral)

 

 I haven't been able to wrap my mind around doing a life sketch

 of a man who was bigger than life to me,

 to my family, and to so many who have had the pleasure

 of really knowing and associating with him. 

 It's not as if I could stand here and say he was perfect,

 because most of you here today, honoring Jay Stone,

 have likely witnessed his not so perfect moments. 

 In fact many of you were probably knee deep in the trouble with him. 

 It has been so much fun being reminded about the 'Stormin' Mormon',

 pool at Curly's,

the bandits that had the entire law enforcement out looking for the train robbers,

 only to find cousins,

 with bandanas over their faces and wooden guns Rex had carved. 

 I could tell you about the practical jokes, because he was always joking.

  I could tell you about the antics he pulled at the hay mill,

 and in the army,

 on the railroad, or the trucks he drove,

 or the shafts he has sunk.

  I could tell story after story of a man who could keep a room full of people

 entertained for hours. 

 He was a miner. 

He wasn't just a miner, he was the best miner.

  When he took on a job, he never quit until it was not just done,

 but done perfectly, and usually ahead of schedule.

  He taught us that "you give it your all. 

 You don't quit until you're done,

 and if you don't want to give them your best,

 move on so they can hire someone that's willing to."

  When people heard Jay Stone was my dad through mining it was often followed by the question, "THE Jay Stone?"

But after all of the stories,

 I felt over and over that this was not the life sketch I wanted to leave with you. 

 This one is the one that really mattered to me.

  This one could be told in the story Shayne shared with me

when he went with my mom and his friend, Jeff, to the mine. 

As dad came out of the shaft and walked towards the car, in his diggers,

dirty from being underground,

 and Jeff told him that he didn't recognize  his dad like that. 

 Shayne said he was almost offended - after all, he was proud of his dad, the miner. 

 Then Jeff told him that dad was more recognizable in a white shirt and tie.

  That is the man I want to tell you about. 

 The man who hasn't always lived perfectly -

but when I think of my dad's life, the scripture in Matthew comes instantly to mind. 

 "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethern,

ye have done it unto me." 

This is how he lived! 

He was a leader, he did not follow.

  If he had it, if he could do it, it was done! 

 I remember a man who was as gentle as he was tough. 

 I see his hands as he willingly went to those in need to give a priesthood blessing. 

 Who told me to never be afraid to wake him in the night to give me a blessing. 

 I think of the man who taught his sons in law how to use the Priesthood he cherished. 

 I see the man who stood over the incubator in the hospital

and commended my 4th child back to life. 

 I see his hands holding my mom's hand, serving her.

 I see the man who didn't just teach me to pray, but who lived what he taught. 

 I remember getting up early for seminary and seeing his feet poking out the door. 

 He was on his knees praying. 

 I see the Elder's Quorum president

 who made sure the ward had 100% home teaching each month he was in,

not because these people were a number to him,

 but because he loved 'the least of these'. 

 He took the people that other's didn't want.

  He broke through icy hearts that wouldn't let people in. 

 He cleaned their houses, he helped them move,

 he shoveled their walks when it snowed. 

 It didn't matter how important the person's standing in society was -

 in fact he had a special talent of lifting some of society's undesirables. 

 I see the man who made sure his family had church each week

 when we moved to a little bush town in Canada. 

 I still remember him blessing the sacrament for us in our home,

 and then when we grew to two families, and then four,

 he took his boys to help clear the rec center where we had church

 of the beer cans and cigarette butts,

 laughing that we weren't doing our job if the back row didn't smell like beer and tobacco. 

 He loved the least of these, he lifted them in service. 

 I remember him breaking the ice in the frozen lake in October in Canada to baptize 3 people.

  He taught us to treat people good on your way up so they treat you good on your way down. 

 He didn't want or need to mingle with the ones who could further his career. 

 He mingled with the common people, and was a friend. 

 He gave so many young men a chance at work,

 his influence cannot be measured in this life.

And most of all, I see the man who taught me my faith in the Savior and in the atonement. 

 Because of him, I have the faith to know that the gift of the atonement covers all,

 and will carry us through anything.

 

While I will remember the goofy man who made me get on my knees at the basketball game

 in front of all of my friends and tell him how handsome and kind and wonderful he was

 in order to take the car,

 or the man who told my first date it cost him $40,000 a year

to keep me best dressed in the yearbook hall of fame-

I will most of all remember that we must be a little kinder,

 a little gentler,

 because we have no idea what burdens another carries. 

 I will remember to love the least of these,

with no thought of what they can do for me. 

This is the life I want my kids to remember.

  For them to know that our choices matter,

 and I want them to learn that above all else,

there is hope, and that the atonement is real

 



 

Part of dad's obituary...

Jay, as he was known by family and friends,

 pursued his life ambitions with a passion and dedication that echoed his work ethic.

 From his time in the military, as a 101st Airborne –“Screaming Eagles” –

 to his lifelong love of mining,

 he exhibited a boundless energy that inspired all his posterity

 and all those who had the privilege to know him.

 His love of storytelling brightened the lives of his listeners,

 as he was indiscriminate with whom he shared his many stories and jokes.

 His wit was quick and entertaining with others rarely getting the best of him.

His children developed a fond love of music from his singing

and the many Saturday mornings he could be found lying in front of his record player

 (although not many of his children inherited his musical abilities).

 Because of his mining career,

 he and his family traveled much of North America as tramps

and looked forward to the next adventure

where his singing of the oldies replaced the radio and entertained his children for miles.

 “On the Road Again” became the Stone mantra,

 sung at the beginning of every road trip.

 His achievements and accomplishments in the mining industry were vast

 and something that gave him great pride.

 As a miner, he rose quickly through the ranks to become a project manager,

 giving opportunities and a love of mining to many young men through the years,

 including his own sons and sons-in-law.

 He was a beloved boss,

 known to show up, day or night,

 to serenade the men in the dry house with his rendition of “Big John”

 and was admired for his atypical style as a boss

, known to still come down and throw the jackleg around.

 His greatest desire was to always provide well for his family

 and he was willing to undergo any sacrifice for them.

 He always told his children,

 “You give it your all. You don’t quit until you are done.

 And if you don’t want to give them your best,

 move on so they can hire someone that’s willing to.”

 Sadly, though his voice had been somewhat silenced in recent years due to his illness,

we know he is once again sharing his voice and stories with those he loves.

He was proud of his ever growing family and loved to tease the great-grandchildren

 just as he always did with his children and grandchildren.
 

 

As I watched his grandchildren and great grandchildren

stand and sing

Families Can Be Together Forever,

I couldn't help but cry,

hoping that he was watching what an amazing legacy he had left behind.

I hope more than anything that he felt our love,

and our sadness that he is gone.

I pray that he understands the light he was to all of us,

because every great memory in my childhood revolved around him.

He was more than a man to me.

He was my hero.

 

 



And the clock keeps ticking

I looked at the clock and realized

that while the world seemed to stop for us,
that clock kept ticking...
another minute, another hour, another day,
another week had gone by,
but my dad was still gone.
The calendar is still on December.
That's where everything seemed to stop.
Everything in my parent's house was still the same,
yet absolutely everything was different.
The life was gone.
His life.
Yet the wind chimes still twinkled in the wind.
I wonder, will I ever be able to hear wind chimes
without seeing my dad sitting in the yard he loved?
As sleep eluded me,
I listened to the trains rush by...
the same sound I heard so many times as a child,
staying at my grandma's house...
the same house that my sweet dad retired in,
and loved.
Trains...
Isn't there a song about trains making you lonesome?
That's how I felt.
Cuddled with my six year old,
who hurts over the loss also,
because he feels so deeply.
The trains rumbled by,
and I felt so lonesome.
Wondering why this had to happen.
What could I have done to prevent it?
Thinking about all the words I wished I had said.
Thinking about the text I had sent him that day...
Yet, I hadn't signed it "I love you".
Did he know?
Was he proud of me?
Did he know he was my hero?
Did he understand the pain he would leave behind?
Did he understand the questions?
Does he feel our love?
Lonesome.
And the clock kept ticking.
I could hear it in the silence of the night.
Ticking away the minutes.
Ticking away the hours.
Waiting for morning to come,
for the sun to come up,
the light to shine through the window,
in hopes that it would wash away the doubt
and the fear, and the pain.
Tick Tock...
that clock,
it has been there for so many years...
yet it is suddenly a reminder that time ran out.
Or maybe... just maybe,
I can see it as time moving forward.
Not counting the minutes since he has gone,
but counting down the minutes until
we can all be together again.
One day.
But not soon enough.

I think back to that night.
Watching that clock.
Waiting.
Wondering what the outcome of the search would be.
Yet,
already knowing.
I remember watching that clock,
and praying.
I remember the absolute peace that came,
moments before I received that text.
In wonder, that even not knowing the outcome,
the peace was already there,
to carry me through.
Peace.
Isn't that funny that peace can come in
the middle of tragedy?
How do people do it without God?
How do people turn away from God the moment
something bad happens?
When the need is greatest,
too many deny themselves the peace.
Peace was there...
in the ticking of the clock.
When the pain was so unbelievably overwhelming,
peace settled over me like a warm blanket.
My prayers were heard,
the Balm of Gilead washed over my bruised soul.
I looked at the clock.
Counting the minutes of my life.
Will I do something with those moments,
that will make my dad proud?
Even more,
will I do something with my life that will make
my Heavenly Father proud?

A friend, who was struggling herself, asked me
"Where is God in all of this?"
Where was God?
I can tell you where God was...
He was there in every mile my son drove to find my dad.
He was there, when I prayed and asked if my dad was ok,
and the sweet reassurance was that yes, your dad is ok.
A warmth washed over me,
"Your dad is ok."
Ok?
How?
But he IS ok.
And so am I.
The clock will keep ticking.
Moments keep rushing by.
The chimes keep tinkling,
The trains keep rolling by.
Life won't stop,
just because my dad is gone.
It's what I choose to do with my life that really matters.
How many lives can I touch for good?
Can I look a little deeper,
see inside, look at the heart,
listen with my own heart,
hear the words that they aren't speaking?
Can I lift another when they feel they can't take another step?
Can I carry their burden?
What can I do to help?
How can I ease the hidden pains others feel?
How can I soothe the scars?
I realize that everyone is fighting a battle,
I want to make that battle a little easier.

My own clock keeps ticking.
 I want to hear the 'tick tock' and remember
that I am here for a purpose.
I will work hard to fulfill that purpose in a way
that will allow my dad, and my Heavenly Father
to tell me
"Well done"
when my clock finally stops ticking!

 

Funny how much things change...

It seems strange that two weeks ago I was wondering how I was going to possibly be ready for Christmas, since I had just started shopping the day before.  Funny how insignificant that became with one text, one phone call, and the knowledge that my dad was missing.

Two weeks ago, I waited for news, while my son, my uncles and two of my brothers searched for the man that was bigger than life to me.  The man that taught me about life, and love and gave me the will to give 100% at everything I do.  The man my mom told me I am just like... that if somebody tells us we can't do something, we do it just to show them we can.  I waited.  Knowing deep inside that he was already gone, yet wanting more than anything to believe it was a bad dream.  Waiting... and then the text.  From my son.  "Stay at grandma's.  We will all meet there."  I knew.  But I had to know.  So I asked why.  That I needed the truth.  That I was ok, I just needed to know.  The reply came.  "Mom... I found him.  I'm so sorry." 

Two weeks ago...

At 11pm, my son and my uncle, blindly in the fog, were led by something, or someone, out of this world, something heavenly, to bring him home to us.  The tender mercies have been beyond description.  The answers to our prayers have been miraculous.  Yet, in the end, we lost the man that everyone thought was bigger than life.  Thayne described him as the strongest man he knew.  That is how I always saw him growing up.  So how do we now go forward without him.  Why do hours still pass, and days fade into night, and life continues without him?  It shouldn't be possible.  A heart shouldn't be able to feel this much pain. 

Gratitude 2013 Day 12

Today I am grateful that I get to be a grandma...

and Thayne gets to be a grandpa,

to (so far) 6 of the most adorable children ever born!

It is amazing to watch them grow.

It's amazing to watch their parents grow.

Our hearts just keep getting larger and our lives keep getting richer.

I count my blessings every day,

and they are at the top of that list!!!



Gratitude 2013 Day 11

Today I am grateful for flowers...

and a husband who will bring them home randomly

to cheer me up and let me know he loves me!

 

I am also grateful for our veterans and the sacrifices they have made

in our behalf.

I am grateful for their families who also sacrifice so that we may remain free!

Gratitude 2013 Day 10

My Sunday gratitude.... 

I am grateful for the gift of faith. 

We had some pretty amazing conversations about faith over the past couple of days

and I am grateful to see how faith has blessed my life.

  Having the faith to trust The Lord isn't necessarily always easy,

 but looking back over my life I see how me trying to decide,

or even demand life work out exactly the way I wanted it,

 or thought it should,

 would have robbed me of the most incredible blessings. 

Looking back,

I wonder why I thought for one minute that I could even think I had a better way. 

We know that the only thing we truly have to give to The Lord is our will

 and I will forever be grateful for that moment when I had the faith to let go of my will

 and give it to Him.

Because He has far better things in store for me than I ever have had for myself. 

Faith is my reason for being on this earth. 

To walk by faith. 

To become like the One that sent me.

  Yes, it takes faith in something I can't "see" at the moment. 

But the tangible evidence of the blessings are enough to keep me believing.

Gratitude 2013 Day 9

Today I am grateful for being a mom. 

I am not just grateful for the sweet times,

or those amazing smelling newborn babies,

 but also for the heart wrenching times when I feel like I am failing in every way.

  I am grateful for the teaching moments.

 I am grateful to know that my heart is capable of loving not just one,

but many human beings so completely and so perfectly,

 and even when "I" am far from perfect,

I know that my love for them IS perfect. 

I am grateful for the ability to sacrifice and for the ability to pray for my children

 and for the tiny miracles daily that prove to me

that though I love them to the best of my abilities,

they are loved absolutely perfectly by our Father in Heaven.

He loves them even more than me.

  He gives me light, and hope that He will help me.

  I am grateful to understand that giving more than I thought I ever had,

has made me better than I ever could have been.

I learned what it means to know that you would lay down your life

 for another human being. 

I am grateful to have learned what life is really about.

  I am grateful that I got to feel life grow within me time and time again.

  I am grateful for those nights when I lay in bed with my hands on my belly,

 feeling kicks and turns and dreaming of who that little soul would be.

  I am grateful for the tears I have cried,

and the nights I lay awake wondering what to do,

because I learned that I never walk alone in this.

  I have felt the Savior wipe my tears

 when I did not or could not do anything else but pray.

 I am grateful for the lost nights of sleep while I rocked a crying baby,

 because I now know how quickly those years went by.

 I am grateful for the joy I have felt

as little hands give me dandelions 

and drew me pictures

and hugged me when I am sad.

I am grateful for the times when they have shown me

 fierce loyalty and great compassion,

when they encircled me as I mourned

 and give me courage when I am afraid.

  Nothing has ever taught me more than I have learned

 by being a mom to these amazing people.

Gratitude 2013 Day 8

Today I am grateful for the opportunity I have to pursue a dream that I almost doubted would happen.  I am especially grateful for my husband and children supporting me while I accomplish this dream, because it takes time away from them. 

 

I committed to taking a 9 month class by www.wedofeet.net and it has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life.  What I am learning brings me so much peace, and joy.  I have to travel one weekend a month and be away from my family, yet I have gained some wonderful relationships with the women teaching, and participating in the class. 

 

It is also something that I have wanted to do as a way to bless my family and friends, because it truly IS a blessing.  It is a way to heal both physically and emotionally and I look forward to the next several months as I complete the class!  I have already had so many experiences that have reinforced the decision to do this and makes me excited for all of the experiences to come!

Gratitude 2013 Day 7

Today I am grateful to live in America. 

Every time I hear the National Anthem I get tears in my eyes.

  This is still the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

I am so grateful for the heroes that have fought for our freedom,

 now and in the past!

 

(Taken at the Real Salt Lake soccer game)

Gratitude 2013 Day 6

Today I am grateful for the many reasons in my life that I have to smile!