Gar's sweet grandfather passed away on May 31. He was 86 years old. It was somewhat unexpected, but at the same time very expected. It's strange to think he is actually not here. I keep thinking we'll see him at Sunday dinner. For posterity sake there are many things about Grandpa that I want to remember.

I never had a grandpa. My maternal grandparents and paternal grandfather all passed before I was born. Grandpa Cal was the closest thing to a grandfather and was he ever a great one! He made up for a lifetime without grandparents in just the six short years I grew to know and love him. If there are three things that I can say about Grandpa Cal they are this:

1) He was kind. A lot of people are kind. But not in the way Grandpa Cal was. I never saw him mad, never heard him shout (with the exception of joking around), never heard him say anything mean about anyone (again, with the exception of a joke). He was genuinely interested in you and what you had to say. I was absolutely fascinated by the number of people I heard at his funeral talk about his unyielding support for his friends and family. I loved hearing about how he would take one of his last living friends, who is blind, out for coffee, and would describe everything that was going on around them as it happened. Of course he was friendly beyond what anyone would consider normal, and would make friends with anyone he would meet. Everyone liked him. Of this I am sure.

2) He was a hard worker. This actually speaks to me and has always stood out when I think of him. Garrett's sister says that Grandpa had everything that he ever wanted in life. What an incredible statement in regards to his life. He had his health, his family, friends, and a modest life. And that was clearly enough. What a great life lesson.

3) He was hilarious. Garrett and I often quote Grandpa and the funny things he said. He was a "perpetual teaser," a jokester, and loved to have a good laugh. I think Grandpa was one of the only family members who teased Garrett, instead of the other way around. I will never forget the last time Gar and I visited him, he looked at me then looked at Garrett, then looked at me again and jokingly said, "You're still married to this guy?!?"

The last time we saw Grandpa Cal was on Memorial Day, just a few days before he passed. We had tried to go up to see Kennecott that day, where coincidentally, Grandpa had worked most of his life. I had never been there and Garrett hadn't been in years. Because of the holiday and traffic we didn't make it up there, but instead stopped to visit Grandpa in Magna. We ended up staying for nearly three hours visiting with Grandpa and Garrett's uncle. In hindsight everything was meant to be, we are amazed and so very grateful. We did finally make it to Kennecott a few weeks later. It was incredible.














And if you ever see the big "C" on the northeastern side of the Oquirrh mountains just as you head toward Magna on the 201, I hope you know that it stands for "Coon."At least that's what Grandpa tried to tell me once.