fun list

Today is the sixth anniversary of my father's death. I challenged myself and my friends (and dad's friends) on Facebook to do something that he would do. Here is a list I wanted to make, that I'll continue to add to, of things that remind me of my father:

• Eat a Reese's peanut butter cup
• Eat some Tastycakes
• Listen to a General Conference talk 
• Read Mormon Doctrine, haha
• Do an electrical project around the house
• Do some family history
• Eat a burger (or Arby's roast beef)
• Make homemade macaroni & cheese (or "concoction" which includes sliced hot dogs & mixed veggies)
• Go on an adventure.... find a scenic overlook or a waterfall
• Have a campfire
• Read the Sunday comics
• Eradicate a wasp/yellow jacket nest
• Watch Dr. Who, the Mentalist, Dead Like Me, or Voyagers
• Make M&M cookies or brownies from scratch
• Read some Dave Ramsey or Dr. Laura
• Listen to '70s or '80s music
• Take a nap in an office chair
• Drink a huge glass of milk
• Watch Looney Tunes

Grieving

I actually wrote the following yesterday- and I had to write it twice.  The Gmail app on my phone doesn't access my contacts and mailing lists quite like I would prefer- so I typed the whole thing using the browser version of gmail, hit send, and nothing happened but the disappearance of my message. So I typed it again in the gmail app after copying the addresses I wanted. Anyways- here's the memories:

Today is August 9th. We closed on a house this past week and my internet is not yet working. I type on my phone at 11:30 at night not because I want to but because I have to. While there are plenty of things I want to write about and should write about they will have to wait. 

One year ago today I cried. I am not normally a very emotional person- sad emotion (I experience plenty of other emotions, but sadness is not typical for me). However, my soul grieved deeply and I had sorrow deeper than I experienced before in my life. My dad was called home. 

Still, one year later, I think I'm in denial. For the past 14 years I lived on my own, 10 of which have been spent with my own family. My father did not play a daily part in my life anymore. Yet he was always a short phone call away. He would usually answer the phone when I called the house with his typical "boo!" greeting. We would talk about politics, finances, or he would talk me through my latest electrical problem in my house. But the phone calls are no more. I can talk to him, but I don't get direct answers back. 

While I might be in denial I grieve nonetheless. I grieved when we moved and I realized my new house needs a complete wiring update and I have no master electrician to do it who won't charge me for labor. I grieve everytime I wear the M.R. Ducks t-shirt I bought in Maryland last year. I grieve to know that my youngest son who was named for my dad only got to see my dad once when he was an infant. I grieved today as we drove down I-84, coming home from a family reunion and I remembered following a moving van driven by my dad during our hasty move from Colorado Springs. I grieve when I hear of missionaries from my area called to serve in my parents' mission because I know they will never be able to work with the best ward mission leader in the entire mission- my dad. I grieved today as I walked through a cemetery and thought of the headstone that will soon be placed if not already placed to mark the resting place of my father. A headstone I will not be able to visit every Memorial Day. 

Today is for you dad. I remember a few years ago talking with my dad who remarked he hoped he would live to see Jesus Christ's 2nd Coming. He believed I would probably live to see it, but he wasn't sure about himself. Many, including me, believe this event to be something that is not far off. I was dumbfounded to think that I would significantly outlive my father. After all, his own father, my grandfather, died when he was 57! While I sit typing this message on my iPhone I still am only 32. 

One of the most difficult parts of this mortal life is that we do not all end it at the same time. People are being born and passing away all of the time. We celebrate the joys of our experience here and grieve at the sorrows. Yet even as some finish their journey, we must carry on- else how are we to leave a legacy for those who follow us?

Thank you for reading and indulging me as I grieve and remember my father and my hero. We miss you dad.

my hydrangea

When Dad died the coolest gift I got was a plant. A hydrangea. In the Pacific Northwest we get rain, a lot of rain. We have a lot of water. Hydrangeas grow with little sun and lots of water. They get big and strong and are basically invincible.

Last fall I planted this tiny little thing that my friend Amy gave me, and over the winter it withered into a brittle, leafless, brown clump of twigs.

Imagine my happiness as I look at it now.

It's growing.

It's green.

It's alive.

And every time I look at it, I think of Dad. I love it. I call it my Dad plant, or my Dad hydrangea, or my Dad bush. It's Dad, and it's alive, and it'll be strong and healthy.

I miss Dad. I'm at the beginning of this ugly thing called divorce, and I sometimes just wish I had a male who I trusted that I could call up. I have friends and their husbands, but no one that's "mine." Dad was always mine, and my husband was mine. Now I'm going at it alone.

I'm so grateful that my little plant has new life. It makes me think of him and it gives me hope.

why i love my family

Below is a copy of a blog post I did in 2010; that year I did a "Why I Love My Family" series and for each of their birthdays I did a special post all about them and why they are awesome. Because my family is AWESOME. Especially my awesome, awesome dad.



(I stole this idea from Janelle, who stole it from someone else. All during 2010 I plan to honor my family, conveniently on their birthdays.)

Today: my Dad.

• My dad can fix anything. He built our house. He set it up so our stereo system feeds into the kitchen so we can listen to music while cleaning and cooking! He put in a central vacuum. I mean, how amazing is that?
  
• My dad has had his own company since 1978. He is an electrician, and I love to think if I ever have a faulty plug I could 1) call him and tell him to come fix it, or 2) call him and have him tell me how to fix it. Discounted electrical services for life!
  
• When I was a kid, I remember going on jobs with him. Once, he wired a Toys R Us and it was an overnight job... we got to stay up all night running around the Toys R Us while dad worked. It was AWESOME!
  
• At the end of elementary school, I was going through some serious "growing pains" and persuaded my dad to take me to the chiropractor with him. Chiropractors are "worth their weight in gold," dad would say. Afterwards we'd get Arby's for dinner. I felt much better after a year or two of adjustments and roast beef sandwiches.
  
• While I was in high school, dad had an emergency once and went to the hospital. I was so scared. I realized how much I loved him, and I prayed really hard everything would be OK. I still remember his powerful stories about how the Lord did take care of him.
  
• Dad was a good example of taking care of our family spiritually. We had Family Home Evenings and as much as we complained, we had family scripture study and prayer. I'm grateful for long talks about Church doctrine.... he may not even remember the times we talked about ghosts and cleansing by fire and all sorts of things, but I do!
  
• At Christmas dad would always listen to Mannheim Steamroller. It made me crazy for years... I just rolled my teenage eyes and said, "not another Mannheim Steamroller Christmas!" But now that I'm all grown up, it's not Christmas without Mannheim. Dad even bought me tickets to one of their concerts my first winter away from home at BYU!
  
• I still remember the birthday card dad gave me when I turned 18. I cried for a long time. And now that I have my own son, I can feel a little bit how he felt. Raising a child is tough work. Seeing them turn out OK (I think I'm OK!) is probably pretty rewarding.
  
• Dad loves milk. For many Christmases, we kids would get him various "moo-juice" mugs, always trying to get the most creative one. The best were the one from Kurt engraved with "Milk Mug" from Things Remembered, or the GINORMOUS ONE (still takes the cake) from the U.S. Mint in Philadelphia, or the teeny one from me with the cow and "moo" on it.
  
• Dad loves Star Trek, Dr. Who, Knight Rider, Voyagers, CBS Sunday Morning with Walter Cronkite, and more. Who else would watch Red Dwarf with me on Saturday night if not my dad?
  
• I taught my dad to be a good tipper! I loved to complain about rude customers when I worked at the Olive Garden. Now, whatever waitress keeps my dad's milk glass full gets a nice 20% tip!
  
• Dad was into computers before anyone else I knew was. I was very cool and computer literate in 1994. He had a cell phone back when they plugged into the cigarette lighters. It was huge and hideous, but it was cool! My favorite technology of dad's was his beeper, since we could plug our AA batteries into it to find out if they were going dead. And for a kid who goes through a lot of AAs with various electronic video game toys, that beeper came in handy! (Dad always called it a beeper, never a pager.)
  
• Dad loves family activities. He isn't afraid of going out to watch a meteor shower at 4 am with his daughter. We'd go camping in rain and wind and bugs and have a great time, even though our tarps wouldn't stay staked down. We'd go to the Home Shows and collect as many free keychains and pencils and ReMax stickers as possible. How else would I ever have gotten to the top of the Space Needle if it wasn't for my dad visiting Seattle and really wanting to go? Thanks for the best $25 lunch-size caesar salad I've ever had, Dad!
  
• I remember after my first car accident. I was completely horrified at what had happened. I wrecked a car, I split my thumb, I was in desperate need for help. My dad rescued me. I felt so grateful for him, even though I knew he was a little mad at me for wrecking his car (don't worry, it was old and cheap, although still a car) and probably driving too fast. I wanted to be defensive, but I knew at that point I needed to be humble.
  
• Dad always gets the best deals! He loves woot.com, he shopped at Sam's before people knew what Sam's was, and he has like 800 credit cards and a strict formula on what he buys with what so he gets the best rebate. Is that impressive or what?
  
• I'm so grateful for you, dad. You give so much time to me. All those memories I have, I'll cherish forever.

Happy Birthday, Dad!!

Here are some of the comments....

From Brenda: Dad enjoyed your birthday card with his Wheaties for breakfast. Hey that's what birthday boy wanted 'the breakfast of champions'. I have printed out your entry and will leave it on his keyboard for him to enjoy when he get home. I thinks he's pretty special too and he looks really hot for an old fart! Happy 53 to KB!!!

From Daddio:  Stolen or not, it was a great read! Thank you, dear daughter -- you made my day! <3 <3

From Daddio again:  I thought I might offer a few more comments on some of your points:

That Toys R Us job lasted 16 nights -- a complete replacement of all the store lighting! They locked us inside each night at 10 PM, and then came back at 7AM the next morning to let us out! We never had any time to play with the displays ...

That trip to the hospital was preceded by an administration by a faithful home teacher. It was the literal fulfillment of his words that made it powerful and memorable.

I wonder how much of the embellishments of those Book of Mormon stories you remember when we read it through completely as a family. I know that doing so increased you kids' ability to read and comprehend.

Do you remember choosing your allowance based on what Federal Reserve letter was printed on the bills? You always liked the "A" ones!

Mannheim Steamroller was an 80's sensation. I never had them when I was growing up. I seem to remember that you learned how to drive a stick shift from attending that concert!

My favorite moo juice glass is the tiny one with the cow on it even to this day! (Moo!)

Sunday Morning was hosted by Charles Kuralt ... Red Dwarf came on before Dr. Who on MPT late on Saturday nights. In those days, we did not have cable, only 3 channels were normally available. Those were the days ... (sigh) ...

You're right about tipping. I never tipped very well until after I heard what it was like to be on the receiving end. Keeping my glass of moo juice full will earn a good waitress a handsome tip ;)

Funny thing about computers. I never had one, nor the desire to get one, as they were quite expensive back in the early 90's. In fact, it was my folks who bought an upgrade and gave me their old one that got me started in computers. It was an "XT" -- not to be confused with Windows XP -- a basic machine that operated on DOS 3.3 with 640K of memory, and a hard drive that was a whopping 30 mega-bytes! Huge in those days.

My so-called beeper did exactly that: Beeped! It did not have a silent setting, and was in fact a voice pager. Started using one back in 1984. We still use it for testing AA batteries!

I'm ready for another hundred dollar burger and $25 salad at the top of the space needle! Any takers?

That car accident -- sheesh! I had JUST gotten that car tagged and on the road, when it got wrecked. I was probably more upset about that aspect than anything else. I know it wasn't your fault, either. The gal who hit you was a piece of work. She ended up working for (of all places --> ready for this?) ... a body shop!! Talk about job security! LOL

After years of paying interest to the credit card companies, the tables are now turned: I only use "rewards" cards, and they now pay me to use `em! We get hundreds of $$$ in rewards, rebates, etc every year these days. It took me years to learn that it doesn't take years to learn fiscal responsibility. I hope that you have benefited from that experience.

Thanks again for the trip down memory lane, we need to do this more often.

Love,

Daddio


Dad, I miss you so much. It'll be a hard day, and I'm thinking of you. 

Wish you were there

The entire family made it for the first of the Twining baptisms.  Just like everybody got together for the 1st of the baby blessings.  One a year for 6 years.  We didn't all make the last few, but we started out pretty good.  Hopefully we can figure out how to make it to all of the baptisms.  It was the second time that everybody has gotten together without you.  Kyler's baptism was wonderful, the room was full to capacity.  The courageous KB III invited his entire class at school to come to his baptism.  He invited neighbors, family members, everybody.  He certainly is a better missionary at age 8 than I was.  I wish I could say it is my great missionary influence upon him, but I'm sure you're helping him be bold in sharing his testimony.

I know you were there, rejoicing as your first grandchild entered into the kingdom of God.  Mom spoke and testified strongly that you were one of the angels in heaven shouting praises on this special occasion.  Kyler managed to get completely submerged on only the first try.  I was almost disappointed for him; I remember how excited I was that I got to go under twice!  :)  

We had three cakes for Kyler since so many people came.  I missed seeing an odd piece being cut out of the middle of one.  I almost cut a piece out of the middle for you.  Almost.   

We do many things in memory of you.  We've told our kids a burp after a meal means "my compliments to the chef."  We will get 'dog nuts' and enjoy your favorite breakfast.  I even got Arby's to enjoy with Kyler on my day off of work when Kyler still had to go to school.  I told Kyler that you would be jealous that we got to have Arby's.  ;)  We bought M.R. Ducks t-shirts for everybody in the family and wear them often.  We even bought some M.R. Ducks shirts for my in-laws for Christmas.  I talked to my stake president about getting tickets to the Priesthood session of General Conference.  Boys are allowed to go to the Priesthood session at age 8, even though they don't hold the Priesthood.  I always enjoyed going to the pie and ice cream before the Priesthood session of conference with you. 

A couple of weeks ago Melani and I had the privilege to go to Kelson Wheeler's wedding.  I know you were there because your sister wasn't able to make it.  The sealer without any prompting from me or anybody else mentioned how our ancestors who have lived before us are interested still in our lives and our doings.  He spoke on how relatives of Kelson and his bride, Melissa, were present and interested in this joyful day.  Kelson told me as we left the sealing room that he felt "Uncle Kenny" there on that day.  I always feel close to you when I go to the temple.  I am so glad for the example you set of the importance of the temple.  You did not necessarily go every month, or even that often, when we were kids, but we knew the temple was a sacred and important place.  We all remembered the special experience when we were sealed as a family and we all knew it was a place we wanted to continue to go.

Thanks for keeping us in mind and keeping an eye on us.  We still need your wisdom and guidance.  We love you and miss you.

6 months

I miss hearing you answer the phone and say "Boo." I can picture you sitting at your desk, putting me on speaker, and saying something funny when I ask for Mom. Remember how girls would call for Kurt and you'd say, "Let me go scrape him off the ceiling." I have no idea what that meant, but it was hilarious!!!

I miss you calling me Snook Pie. No one else on this planet ever called me that, and no one else was allowed to. It was special between you and me.

I've been doing the Jumble a lot lately. The Jumble always reminds me of you. You'd sit in your recliner, and I'd curl up next to you and we'd do it together. Of course before too long I got really good at it, and I don't think you liked doing them with me any more :-)  No, I'm sure that's not true. I was your little girl. I bet you always liked doing everything with me. This week I did a Jumble and it reeeeally made me think of you. The silly riddle was that, "The cyclops monster movie was playing at the....'EYE-MAX THEATER!'"  YES!!! Dad would have LOVED that one, I said to myself. I look up at the ceiling and laughed. I hope you saw me and were laughing, too.

I wonder which Superbowl commercials you would have liked.

I have some Arby's coupons and I want to go get roast-beast.

I want to tell you about my divorce and my sadness and my hurt. I want you to cry with me. You're such a wonderful man and I love you so much. Thank you for loving our mother.

I'm reading Jesus the Christ and I want to talk to you about it.

Every so often I hear classic rock songs on the radio that I know you liked, like Toad the Wet Sprocket or J. Geils Band or Bachmann Turner Overdrive. Stuff they'd play on 93.5 The Beach. I can hear your voice say the words. I can see your expression. I miss your grin.

It's been 6 months since you were called back to God. I am grateful for every day I have on this planet, I truly am, but goodness gracious, I really really miss you.

Always remembering

This is going be a little jumpy, but I don't have to time to consolidate my thoughts in a cohesive manner. Just enjoy the ride ;)

I don't think there is a day that goes by where I don't think of Dad. There are so many instances in my life that cause me to think about things Dad taught me, things I did with him, and the last day I saw him.

Every time I look at my hands and see them calloused and dirty, I think of his ever-working hands, constantly rugged from his day to day job. I look at my hands and see scars that I gained after many years of working with him and each one holds a memory.

Stake Conference was a few weekends ago and one speaker starting talking about his father and a life lesson he learned from him. I immediately could only think of the hundreds of lessons my father taught me over the years. Even if I was angry with how Dad responded to something I did or the way I was acting, he was constantly looking out for my well being and future.

When I got my wisdom teeth out, I had to be knocked out completely because they were impacted. I was doped up on drugs for many days after, only eating pudding and liquids. Even after just a couple of days of rest, Dad began asking me when I would go back to work. Dad, I explained, I'm still on meds. I'm tired and recovering. Why should I go to work when I should be resting? I will never forget his response. "If you act like you're feeling better, you'll feel better. Lying around the house won't help you as much as getting out and working." Even though I did not want to hear that it was a lesson that has stayed with me ever since.

Today is Christmas. I think back to growing up and how much I loved having Christmas as a family, eating breakfast together (Dad's AMAZING french toast) and driving around looking at Christmas lights while listening to Mannheim Steamroller. I'm spending Christmas with my in-laws in a northern GA timeshare. Today we went for a little hike and found a decent waterfall. I thought about how much dad loved going to Swallow Falls in Western MD. I can't even count how many summers we went to that campground, and we would always love looking at the falls there. I'm sure he would have liked these, even if it wasn't the same as Swallow Falls.

As a Christmas present to the readers, here are the voice mail recordings from home and his work line. Angela got them and I'm hosting them on a website that I manage.



KB Electric Voicemail



Home Voicemail

Reese's

Thinking of you today, Dad. 

today's letter to dad

Hey Dad, I saw this and I thought you'd get a huge kick out of it. I don't even usually like Pearls Before Swine.

Also, I had this whole thing with my credit card this week, where someone stole my number and charged $1,000+ at a local store, but Capital One contacted me and canceled my card and everything is well. It's the card you helped me pick out when you came to Seattle when Laurel was born, remember? It has the tulips on it? I really wanted to call you and tell you the whole story, to hear what you had to say about it. You know everything there is to know about credit cards and stuff.

Plus it's been getting really dark lately, and all those lights you put in for me in June are really coming in handy. Gosh I love them. I'm so grateful for you. I'm so so so glad you came to see me in June.

I miss you so much.

Love you, Dad,
Angela

realms unknown

I think about Dad a lot. I can't remember our last conversation, our last words. I don't know if I told him I loved him. I know he knew, but still. It's hard to have him go so suddenly.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at how hard this still is. It's been a few months... two months almost exactly. I am back in my real life but it doesn't feel real. Sometimes I just think about Dad and I'm overcome with emotion. I'll start to cry. Sometimes I'm in the car and Wesley pipes up from the backseat and says, "Mommy, are you sad Grandpa died?" It's like he knows! I guess I should be grateful that means I'm not usually sad, and if I cry it's for a dang good reason!

The part I struggle with, maybe the most, is that dying is so personal, so individual. People dying from cancer can be dying in a hospital bed, surrounded by family holding their hands. Dad didn't have that same experience. He was on his own, fighting this crazy thing happening inside his body and not being sure what was going on. I know Mom and Brad were there physically, but I imagine he was so out of sorts he didn't register that they were there supporting him. I just picture him in the back of the minivan, trying to breathe, weighing the situation.

I just keep thinking about how SCARED he must have been. Was he scared? Death was staring him in the face. I guess even the cancer patient lying in bed or the elderly person nearing the end can also feel SCARED, but I wonder what it was like for Dad. I find it funny thinking to myself that I just wish I could have been there. Maybe that would be more closure for me? Or maybe I hate that he had to go through it first. He had to pave the way. Out of our tight knit family of five, he is the only one who has experienced this.

Maybe he wasn't scared of death; I know he knew the gospel was true. Maybe instead he was scared of his body failing, or of leaving Mom behind, or of considering projects unfinished. But no matter what, he faced this thing of trepidation on his own and it happened, regardless of his fear or his readiness or his intentions.

I know his soul lives on, and I know it's all OK, and I know we're sealed forever.... but the unknown is still so scary. I suppose I haven't conquered my fear yet. I miss you Dad.

my dream

I had a dream with Dad in it not long after I got back from Maryland. I think about it a lot.

With my calling (in real life), I am in charge of the Child of Record baptisms. In my dream, it was Child of Record baptisms, and I was getting baptized -- although I'm an adult and everything. I remember in my dream coming into the church and being annoyed about the baptism since it was combined with other people and they had chosen all of the hymns and speakers, and the whole thing was not the way I would have wanted it. 

At some point I needed to go get something, like maybe the programs?, and I was walking up some stairs to a "loft" at the Church. It's not like churches have lofts, but I guess this one did... it was all white and silver, with a glass balcony overlooking whatever was below, although I didn't see what was down there. 

As I was walking up the stairs to the loft, the thought struck me that someone needed to baptize me, and my father was dead so he couldn't do it. Who would baptize me? I was stressed for a time until I headed back down the stairs and I looked up, and Dad was there. I feel like maybe Kurt was there, too, standing to Dad's right and hugging his shoulder, looking at me as if to say, "Look! it's Dad!" 

(where's my one of these, HUH? ;-)

Dad was dressed all in white. He looked the same really, and he just looked at me with his piercing blue eyes and smiled, this wonderful peaceful smile. There was a feeling of relief that someone was going to be able to baptize me, and how wonderful it could be my dad. 

I just looked in his eyes and was happy, then I woke up.

Dad was there, in my dream, in all white, serving in a spiritual capacity.

I think about this a lot. The memory is very fresh and very real, even though it happened a few weeks ago. Was it Dad? Did he appear to me? Was it just a dream? I guess I have no way of really knowing. I do know, I confess, that I've prayed to Heavenly Father that Dad can visit me again in other dreams. It was nice to feel his presence, even if it was just in a dreamland.

I'm so glad I gave him lots of big hugs when he was here in Seattle. I'm so glad he knew I loved him, and I knew he loved me.

out of time

After Dad died I went back and read our thread of Facebook chats. Dad would always say "boo" at all hours of the night, to see if I was there. Sometimes I was :-) Here was a conversation on June 25th....

Dad: boo!!
Me: Hi, I'm on my phone
Dad: yeah, so it would seem
Me: I should be sleeping. Soon. You too! How are you?
Dad: been asleep most of the evening ... got paperwork to do
Me: At 2am? Sheesh.
Dad: I don't watch the clock much. I'm awake ... got paperwork to do ... no brainer. 2 licenses to renew before the end of the month. running out of time here.

I bolded that last part. Running out of time here. We were running out of time. 

I can't believe he's gone. Every day I can't believe it.

tender mercies

I was writing in my personal journal the other day, coming home on the plane, and I started to list what I consider the "tender mercies" surrounding Dad's passing. What do I mean by that? There have been some very real realizations that have come that have brought great comfort. Elder David A. Bednar identifies the "tender mercies," described in 1 Nephi, with this: "A loving Savior was sending me a most personal and timely message of comfort and reassurance." 

This happened to us. It happened to me, and I think to Mom, in the two weeks we were together.

Of course I'm not HAPPY about Dad passing; I wasn't ready for it and I go back and forth being mad and angry about it. It's my journey along the stages of grief. Unfortunately, the final stage is acceptance... where we realize this was all part of the plan and we're somewhat able to accept that it has happened and move forward.

In considering the "plan," I've realized how, in fact, the Lord had a hand in the final months and moments of Dad's life, and for that we should be very grateful.

• I got to see Dad in June. THANK GOODNESS I got to see Dad in June. Mom & Dad had thought about coming in November or earlier, but they put off their trip and in reality, they came at the perfect time. Those memories of my dad are so fresh. Every time I turn on the light in my laundry room or the ceiling fan in my room, or I plug my phone into that cool USB plug, I think of him. I'm so glad he was here and we got to have late night talks and I heard more of his wisdom and felt his love.

• I feel like the fact that Grandma Twining died just on July 23, 2014, was a miracle in timing. Dad was able to attend the funeral -- Sidney and Kurt and cousins and Grandma and everyone (except me!) was able to attend the funeral. They all got to see Dad and touch him, hug him, look into his eyes, hear his voice, everything, merely weeks before his own passing. I feel like the timing for Grandpa going was not a coincidence. You know what? I think Dad would say the same thing. He always said there was no such thing as coincidence.

• Mom has said that Dad didn't get the chance to serve a mission in this life, and his time serving as Ward Mission Leader taught him so well how to be a missionary. Serving in that calling was literally the culminating act of his life. I imagine him on the other side, teaching people the gospel. He was such a good example of missionary work, and he believed in simple and kind acts of service. He was a great man, and I know he continues to do good.

• I think about the circumstances around Dad's death. He had made it to Atlanta, so he was in a city. He had spent the afternoon with the missionaries, just laughing and visiting and chatting. I'm so grateful that when it happened, Brad and Mom were there. They were there so 1) Dad wouldn't be alone, but also 2) each of them wouldn't be alone. Brad was there to support Mom, really. I'm so grateful Brad was there. I'm so grateful Mom wasn't alone. I know it was probably the hardest thing for Brad to do, but he did a great service to me and Kurt by being there to support Mom through this big event.

• Mom & Dad didn't have health insurance. Can you imagine what a long, drawn out disease or hospital stay or ordeal would have ended up costing them? What the fees would have taken out of the accounts Mom has left over to support her for the rest of her life? We should be grateful it was quick and sudden, because financially that is truly a blessing. Similarly, Mom had said that Dr. Merrill said it was probably relatively painless.

• Would you find it interesting that Mom had to order 15+ official copies of the death certificate, and in the State of Maryland a certified copy costs $22. Guess how much a certified copy in Georgia costs? $5. It was like Dad was looking out for Mom's bottom line all along. That amounts to a  $255 savings.

• Dad also wouldn't have wanted a huge fuss. Had he been on life support or in the hospital for ages, he just wouldn't have wanted us to agonize over it. He knew the plan, he didn't believe in coincidences. He probably was just fine about going to the next world with less pain and suffering. 

There's another quote I really love... it's by Richard C. Edgley, and here is what he says:

"There are few of us, if any, who don’t walk the refiner’s fire of adversity and despair, sometimes known to others but for many quietly hidden and privately endured. Most of the heartache, pain, and suffering we would not choose today. But we did choose. We chose when we could see the complete plan. We chose when we had a clear vision of the Savior’s rescue of us. And if our faith and understanding were as clear today as it was when we first made that choice, I believe we would choose again."

I really love this. I imagine us all in heaven in the premortal realm, and we were just happy being together, and the Lord told us that He'd need Dad back sooner rather than later. We probably weren't happy about it, we were probably surprised, but we chose anyway. I said, "OK, I'll take the 33 years I'll get, and I suppose that will have to do." I said that. I chose anyway. I chose knowing it would be this hard and this awful to lose him. Mom chose. We all chose anyway. 

That's been an interesting thought for me to have, and I wanted to share it with you, my family. I'm so grateful for the tender mercies I've seen. I really miss him. I think of Dad every day, all the time. Going back to "real life" has been hard since it's NOT my real life. My real life includes my Dad.

If you have seen other tender mercies, please share them. As much as I'm not happy about it, I believe it was part of the plan, and the Lord essentially set this up so we could be comforted.

I pray for more peace.

A Legacy of Faith

I posted this on my blog, but I figure it is fitting to post here as well.  Here are the original remarks I planned for Dad's funeral.  I edited it a little while giving the talk because Brad already mentioned a lot about the temple work Dad did.

Kenneth Brian Twining- a legacy of faith

Never served as a bishop, but labored in the bishoprich
Never ordained as a high priest, yet honored his priesthood
Never served a mission, but was a missionary
Not originally married in the temple, but sealed to his entire family
Never served as a temple worker, but worked in the temple
Did not have ancestors who walked across the plains, yet he was a pioneer
He did not read the scriptures on a daily basis, but he lived them everyday of his life.

27 Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.
James 1:27

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.  And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Corinthians 13:1-7

My father and his family went to the World's fair in New York City.  Wanting to beat the crowds, they showed up early, and it was raining.  Raining and raining.  The only booth that was open for people to get out of the rain was a booth sponsored by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The family of four toured the pavilion and my Dad's father signed the guest book.  

Eventually the entire family was baptized.  He attended church, and eventually helped his sweetheart join the church after they got married.  A few years and children later they all made the trip to the temple to be sealed together.

My childhood is full of memories going to primary, having family home evening, and even family scripture study.  My dad would read the verses we would study ahead of time and make charts of difficult words in the passages.  Then when we studied, he would talk about the words and what they meant.  

When I turned 12 and received the priesthood I became my dad's home teaching companion.  Eagerly,  we went month after month to visit our families. Some of the families did not regularly come to church, but that did not stop us from visiting, nor giving service to them.  My dad helped me develop a deep abiding testimony of the importance of home teaching.

Continuing in my progress of my faith, on one occasion I sought to go on a fundraising walk with some friends.  Honestly I had not taken the time to fundraise much money, but wanted to pay the minimum fundraising fee and hang out with some friends from school.  My father was not impressed with my desire to go to this activity on a Sunday.  At the time I wanted the Bishop to grant me an award that I was not truly old enough to receive.  My dad, serving as the ward clerk in the Bishoprich had convinced them to grant me the award, but they decided to give it to me on the very Sunday I planned to skip church and attend this fundraiser.  The decision was made that if I showed up, I would get the award, if not, I would have to wait until later.  Guilt drove me to not go on the walk and instead to church.  My father, surprised yet happy to see me, helped ensure I received the award and later recounted to me the decision made earlier in Bishoprich meeting.  I gained a lot more than just a simple award that day.

A few years later, when I was ready to go on my mission, my dad decided to trade his life of a steady paycheck and 9-5 job to go back into business for himself again.  The problem he ran into was start up capital, he didn't have much to get another work truck for himself.  I told him I had money I had saved up for my mission that he could use for the business to get it started, as long as he paid the monthly amount required for my mission.  He did not touch a single cent of my money.  I came home and it was all there- he paid every single month out of his own pocket, and testified to me he never experienced so much success with his business as he did when he supported a missionary.  He not only supported me on my mission, but my brother, two of my cousins, and several who have served from Salisbury.  

I could go on for hours with stories of faith and service that my dad left as an example to me, my siblings, and all around him.  Yet time permits only one more.  A couple of years ago, a part my dad had ordered to help him work on a chapel here on the Eastern Shore got sent instead to the Washington DC temple.  In the process of obtaining the part, my father talked to the head engineer at the temple, who upon finding out my father's occupation,  invited him to do some work at the temple.  The crew maintaining the temple just happened to be in need of the services of a new electrician.  My dad always told me there is no such thing as a coindence, but it is all part of Heavenly Father's plan and the workings of his spirit. He loved working in the temple and grew significantly spiritually through that and his calling of ward mission leader- a calling he was nervous to accept.  Throughout his life, my father actively lived and participated in his faith, but he grew in leaps and bounds these last few years, which I believe was Heavenly Father's way of preparing him for the mission he is accomplishing right now.  

I love my father.  I miss him terribly.  Like so many his time here on the Earth was too short.  Yet I know His spirit lives on and will one day reunite with his body.   I know we will live together as an eternal family forever.  Thank you dad, for this legacy of faith.

baby ducks

My Laurel pie wore this shirt today...

Missing you, Dad.

blew a breaker

Welp, I blew a breaker today. I have no idea what happened! I was testing light bulbs in a nightlight because I was thinking it was burned out. I screwed in the bulb, put it in the socket, flipped the switch, it came on then bam, blew out. The bulb was all black. And then, shockingly, I realized no lights in my entire upstairs worked. Weird!!

DAD, HOW COULD A NIGHTLIGHT BLOW A BREAKER? You know I'd be on the phone with him right now if I could.

This morning I saw this in the paper....



Haha. Dad wasn't really nosy, but this made me think of him too :-) Probably also because it was the COMICS!

Welcome to Memories of "KB"

Hi family...

I created this blog as a virtual memory book for our dad, Ken Twining. I've invited all of you as authors. Anytime you're thinking of dad or a memory pops into your mind, please come online and write in our online memory book.

I'd love to have stories, memories, testimonies, and experiences, anything to help us think of Dad. And then, when we're really missing him, we can come on here and read the memories and laugh, cry, and everything in between.

In Memory of
Kenneth Brian Twining
March 8, 1957-August 9, 2014

Love,
Angela Twining Gottula