In Loving Memory

Today I’m thinking about my amazing father. This day marks the fourth anniversary of his death. Dad was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was twelve years old and fought a courageous battle with the disease for ten years until he eventually could fight no more.


Although I admit I occasionally felt sorry for my situation when I was young, I am truly grateful now for the experience of watching my father face his trial with faith and determination. The positive attitude he maintained, in spite of his tremendous struggle, taught me more than I could have learned from him had he been a “normal” dad in good health.

When someone we love dearly passes on, they are not completely removed from us; there’s a part of them that remains as part of who we are. Although our faith teaches our hearts they are spiritually alive in a place superior to the earth, we still long to be with them again. The miracle in all of this is that as we emulate the qualities we admired in our loved one we help their legacy continue. We can help do the things they desire to have done on the earth--the things they would do if they were permitted to stay here longer.

The other day this song randomly popped up as I was listening to Pandora Internet Radio (this is just a version I found on YouTube):



I think it’s important for us to remember that those who have died aren’t gone to us. They live on in the world of spirits, waiting anxiously (as are we) for our joyous reunion. They are doing important work.

I know we can have special moments that help us feel connected to them. I love the quote from Scottish Poet James Barrie that President Monson always says:

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”

During the hard times—the “December”—days I hope we can all remember our blessed memories that we hold sacred. I am so grateful for the memories God graciously allowed me to create with my inspirational father. I hope to use those memories of his strong character to pattern my life after.