A Sign

   My father-in-law passed away Wednesday, early in the morning, after a week trial in the hospital. He was 91 years old. I am happy that his physical and mental battles are over. He was a stouthearted man who learned and adapted as he matured. I wanted a sign that told me how to honor him and two were given.
   The first was given me as I sat quietly and waited in the temple the day after his death. I was there to do initiatory work for my family names.  A sweet, calm reassuring feeling came over me and I knew both Walter and Beth wanted me to be active in the temple work I was doing. If I wanted to feel their spirit it would be in the house of the Lord where they worked and spent their later years.
   My second sign came as I looked at this painting I created for him and felt strongly that it should go to my grandson.

 

   He should know who he is named after and what a good example he was. I find that my grandchildren love stories about their ancestors and do not carry the baggage of being disappointed in their grandparents and parents as perhaps my children do. Time softens the edges of mortal weakness that we all have. Dad and I had a few special experiences we shared together. He mentioned them whenever he called. Yes, he told the same stories over and over. I'm comforted that he remembered them so well and that I brought him some joy. Thank-you for a life well lived.