Sunday, August 10, 2014

James Farrell Bell

"a grandfather is someone with silver in his hair and gold in his heart." -unknown

On the morning of July 31, 2014 the world lost one of the greatest people I have ever known.  My grandfather, James Farrell Bell returned home to our Heavenly Father and his loving wife who passed away before I was born.  A week before my grandfather passed away he fell off the side of his bed while talking to my uncle, ever since then his health slowly declined.  The Monday before he passed away I took my mom up to sit with him.  I told myself I wasn't going to go in, but into his room I went. He just laid on his bed, with his eyes shut, not speaking a word.  Which was rare, whenever you walked in to his room he would exclaim "Well! Look who's here!"  The last words my grandfather spoke to me were "Where are you going?" as I left his room to go to work.  I practically ran out of the care center so no one would see me bawling.   We got the phone call at 3:00 am on the 31st, and in my mind I thought I should be crying.  I didn't cry, not then, not later, not that whole day.  A tear or two may have slipped out, but nothing that I was expecting.  In the past, I haven't dealt with death extremely well.  I understand and have a testimony of life after death, and that families are indeed forever, but I grieve sooo strongly.  This time, I didn't.  Anytime someone would ask if I needed something I said "No..I'm fine.  Really, I'm a little nervous because I'm doing so well."  His funeral was on Monday, August 4th.  I walked into the mortuary prepared for a solemn, kind of sad, atmosphere.  The moment I walked in I knew that the feeling of the funeral was going to be far from sad.  I talked to my cousins Cassi and Bryan as the rest of the family walked through the viewing.  We were talking and laughing and enjoying each others company.  The funeral services themselves were beautiful.  His children (my mom and her siblings) paid tribute to his legacy and all that he taught.  The graveside services were beautiful as well.  Growing up my family had large family reunions in Richmond, Utah every year around Memorial Day.  My immediate family would go just about every year as well as my grandpa and grandma.  Sometimes I would ride with my parents, sometimes with my grandparents.  On the way up we would always play a game that my grandpa taught us, called "Beaver, beaver, white horse". The game was simple, you look out your window at all the fields you pass, if yous see a brown horse (or black or tan) you'd say beaver! and get a point.  It was more exciting to see a white horse though, when that happened you had to be the first to exclaim "beaver, beaver, white horse!" and then you would receive 2 points.  I think at some point I figured out which field would always have a white horse and I'd be on high alert to find that field!  My grandpa was buried in Richmond, it had been a few years since I had been up there, and even longer since I had played this game.  I instinctively found myself playing it when we neared the outskirts of Logan, it was so great to me to remember such wonderful memories at that specific time.  I feel blessed beyond measure to have had the grandfather I did.  Never did a visit with him go by when he didn't ask about school, and what my major was.  Growing up he encouraged my love of reading, and I believe that is a part of why I read as much as I do and also why I want to teach, because he helped instill a love for learning in me.  I am grateful for my grandfathers testimony and his firm belief in the gospel.  I am grateful that he made sure his family knew that the church is true and taught us to never waiver from out beleifs.  My grandfather was a giant of a man and I will miss him dearly but then I think of the joyful reunion I am positive he had in heaven and I know that his passing was what he needed.  

My mom (far right) and her siblings. 

I just really love this picture...

No comments:

Post a Comment