Forgive my depressing ramblings...

My grandpa Hunt passed away last week.

He was my last grandparent.
I have been in a funk since then.
I have had lots of rambling thoughts about it all.
I think the transition is what has made this passing so hard. Knowing that he is the last of "that generation" in my family and except for some sort of tragedy (knocking on wood) the next funeral Sam and I will attend will be for one of our parents.
And then we will be the ones putting the photos and memories together, writing down life sketches (how much do I really know?) , and trying to maintain some sort of composure, while feeling orphaned.
It sucks.

If I were to wish for an ideal way to die, my grandpa certainly nailed it.
He was kicked back in his favorite recliner, legs extended, ankles crossed, BYU blanket pulled up to his waist, and remote in his hand.
He fell asleep during the game, and woke up in a better place.
I joked that typical of a man, he tried to take that remote with him when he went, but reality is, he took nothing.

We take nothing.

That has been on my mind too.
Everything you work for in this life:  a nice home, nice furnishings, a decent car, a gym-healthy body...
It all gets left behind.
You take your experiences, your education, and relationships: connections you have made.
It all seems so simple, and yet, so easy to forget that it works that way.
What really, truly matters.
You also leave behind a legacy of how you lived your life.

My grandpa was a huge advocate of temple work.
The day before he passed, he did three sessions.

After my grandma passed six years ago, I think the temple work kept him busy, and sane.
He missed her so terribly!
So he immersed himself in service to others, because that is how he was.

A humble school teacher, who loved his Father in Heaven and his family, and his fellow man. In that order.
He and my grandma somehow raised a family of ten children on a schoolteachers salary.
That man taught junior high for 25 years.

I have the pleasure of three junior high aged kids in my home this year.
Three of them.
I have been very close to taking up alcohol.

I am not sure how he did it, being around hormone-riddled kids all day long, but he loved it.
He said he loved the kids.
And that love was reflected in the number of former students who came out of the woodwork when he passed, expressing their love for him.
He touched a lot of lives.

When I think of my grandpa Hunt, I think of patience, and quietly doing the right thing, with no desire for recognition.

He was ready to pass on.
Can you imagine being ready to die?
I am scared...because clearly, I still have some work to do to feel ready to meet my maker.
That has been another thing on my mind.
The legacy I am leaving behind.

What will my family remember me for?

The final gift my grandpa gave me was a new perspective on my own life.
I feel like I have been living in neutral.
Not a bad person, but not a person who is making an effort to be better.
I am pretty content to be sitting on the fence, and happy to be lazy.
I am not saying that tomorrow I am going to be joining up with the Peace Corps, but there are definitely changes that need to be made.
I am ready to make them.
I have people on the other side that I would like to be proud of me when they venture a peek down.
People that need to know that I remember their lives, and want to live like they did.

“What a wonderful thing is death, really, when all is said and done. It is the great reliever. It is a majestic, quiet passing on from this life to another life, a better life. I’m satisfied of that. We go to a place where we will not suffer as we have suffered here, but where we will continue to grow, accumulating knowledge and developing and being useful under the plan of the Almighty made possible through the Atonement of the Son of God”
(President Gordon B. Hinckley at the funeral services for Robert G. Wade, Salt Lake City, Utah, 3 Jan. 1996).