Heavy Heart of Faith and Hope

It was a last second decision as I quickly jerked the steering wheel of my Toyota and turned up the short drive of the entrance to the cemetery. My tires slipped on the dusting of powdery ice crystals sprinkled on the ground from some overhanging trees. It was sometime in the morning shortly before sunrise when I arrived there, the Valley View Cemetery. The fog hung in the air so thick that I could barely see the road I had just exited. As cold and confining as the fog was it provided me with a shield of privacy that I didn't realize I would need. Then I saw it, only a short distance off the edge of the road, the marker and memorial to my father.

Crisply etched letters "REDMOND" caught my eye and it was all over, the tears fell freely on the frozen, partially snow covered ground. It was my first visit to a cemetery during the winter months, and just before Christmas. The grounds were freely and heavily decorated with Christmas wreaths and at the time no one else came into my view. My attention now was focused upon a newly laid headstone designed using red granite. The red's in the granite rock had been etched around the surname as to illuminated it and directly underneath that is etched the Salt Lake Temple.

The temple here, a symbol for the eternal nature of Mom and Dads marriage as well as a reminder of the sealing power exercised within its walls binding families together, sealed for eternity. This of itself lessened the loss I was feeling, but it did not stop the tears. As I focused on the grave the fog seemed to wrap itself closer to hide me from any passers-by.

For the short moment standing there a car or two entered the cemetery, slowly making their way around the windy road and out of my view. As they did so I felt a sense of honor as if I would say to them “that’s my dad”. I suppose I would have to say that after twenty-eight years of marriage and six children I had to grow up. I guess it’s about time.

With all of the excitement of Christmas and the celebration of the birth of the Savior of the world one might well ask why approach such a sad topic at this time of the year? I would have to answer that it is just because of that, that the Savior was born, He lived, He died and He was resurrected never to die again, removing the bonds of death, making it possible for me to enjoy the same. Thus giving me the hope I need to live through the tears. It is because of Him that I shall enjoy the same associations that I have enjoyed in this life. I will stand again in the flesh and hug my earthly father. It is the arms of His love, my Savior, that sustains me. It is He, the resurrected Son of God, whose birth I celebrate. I would invite all to celebrate the same!

Merry Christmas dad.