A lot of things have happened in the years that I've been away at school. Things I haven't been able to truly take in. The greatest thing? Death. I haven't been home in a while, not for a long while. What does home mean for me? It means my family and this means my home ward, I've always considered them family.
I haven't been able to take in the events that have ripped through my ward these past few months. We had a very . . . alive ward. I don't remember there ever being death or hardly ever. And when someone did die, it was someone I didn't know or hardly knew but lately . . . there have been some people I have always held a dear and will continue to hold a dear place in my heart.
To one of the most recently deceased, Vicki Brown, your happy presence will be missed by me. Vicki Brown's life wasn't easy, probably one of the hardest lives to live in the ward. But she always smiled, always had a special smile for everyone. I won't forget the last time I saw her. There was so much joy and happiness in our exchange. And I will never forget spending the day wrapping presents with Vicki a couple Christmas' ago. I remember going with my visiting teaching and we'd go visit Vicki Brown. That was when I first truly met Vicki and I've loved her dearly since then. I will never forget her stories of Ricks and I will never forget the love I most admired between Vicki and Sam Brown. Such love is a testament to all of us that this Church is true.
I will never forget when Patriarch Zane Mason laid his hands on my head, when he gave me my long procrastinated patriarchal blessing. I will never forget the sailing trip he took us on last summer, I'm so glad I chose his sail boat. I will never forget my joy at seeing him in Idaho Falls last Spring. Such happiness I needed at that time. He was a piece of home and I hadn't seen home for such a long time. I remember when I first saw Patriarch Mason, I believe I was five, and for years I thought he was the Prophet. I will never forget the Sundays he would come up to me and tell me how beautiful my mother was, how she was someone to be admired. I couldn't agree with him more.
John Everett, truly an amazing man who left a completely wonderful family behind. He always boosted my self-esteem. As a teenage girl, who thought she was ugly, I didn't feel so ugly when John Everett made sure to always hug me and tell me how beautiful me I was. John was always great with people, great at understanding what they needed at that moment, whether it was loving words or playful ones. His kindness was immense. I know he is missed. I know from the way his grandsons talk of him, the love the ward felt for him. I miss his kind words, his kind face, his kind soul.
Frederick Fischetti was a quietly kind man. I remember I used to babysit for the Fischetti's. I was at first intimidated by Brother Fischetti. He was a strong man, with a strong presence and even when he was sick, he was strong. It was a couple years after I started babysitting, when he was in charge of Sunday School that I saw such greatness in him. His testimony was one I'd never forget. His comments in class were always deep, one's that touched the hearts of those in the class. He was a quiet, strong, kind man that loved his family very much. His actions always spoke of that to me.
Frank Smith, such a viral, strong man. Even during his last days he had a strength that was unbelievable, an ability to hold on to life, to appreciate life and make the most of it. I remember Diane Smith's stories of Frank. He was a great husband, a great father and his kindness will never be forgotten. I know my parents admired him and always enjoyed visiting Frank and his family. We were so excited when they moved into the neighborhood, it was great to have members of the Church so nearby. The simple sweetness of the Smiths was so very refreshing in a world filled with so much fakeness, such a kind, loving family. There were a lot of people who cared and loved Frank, I saw that during his last days here on earth.
Sandy Rose, when I was little I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the ward. I always thought there was a quiet, radiant beauty in Sandy Rose. Her testimony was strong, I always felt that in her words, in her deeds. Her style was simple, her actions poignant. Sandy Rose was an extremely intelligent woman and while I didn't know her too well, I remember she loved gardening, loved her calling in the Family History Center and she was always so willing to help, to love those around her.
I would also like to mention Jon Caless, he passed a couple years ago but I will never forget Brother Caless. I was shy when I turned fourteen and started attending youth activities. I didn't make friends, I was often standing alone. Jon Caless friended me. He saw my photography interest and found a way to connect with me. We always joked, talked of cameras and I believe he is one of the overwhelming factors in choosing journalism as my career. His death was the first death in my life that I actually truly felt, truly understood. He gave so much in this life, I can't imagine how much more he is giving in the next.
And so, my memories do poor justice to such amazing people and they truly were . . . truly are amazing. They have moved on, gone to do even more amazing things. They had great impact on my life and so many others. And so, I mourn them, I miss them but I also look forward to the day when I shall meet them again.
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