The power of pondering.

I love funerals. I have never gone to one without feeling a great desire to be a better person. And today was no exception.

My friend Debbie Dunn's husband passed away after a fight with cancer. Before we left for Utah we visited them and Debbie confided he probably wouldn't be there when we got back. So on that last visit I took the opportunity to tell him how his kindness blessed our family.

Ever since we moved in the ward (and before!) we've had to be careful with money. I loved resale shops 'til I discovered garage sales were even cheaper. (You know you're cheap when you balk at thrift store prices.) Then I took it a step further and started being on the look-out for treasures on large trash pick-up day. I just knew one day I would get in a accident because I was too busy surveying someone's trash. Everything we brought in the house (edibles excluded) was at least once removed from new. Oh, except undies. Paul assured me we could afford new undies for the kids (I have been known to accept hand-me-downs from people we know, though.) So one Christmas the Dunns gave us a Wal-Mart gift card so each of the kids could pick out something they really wanted of their own choosing. I wondered what toy or game each would choose. But none of them picked toys. They each wanted to pick out their first pair of brand-new shoes. All of my kids thought they'd won a contest! And each Christmas, even after he got sick, they continued to remember our family.

I also remember being impressed with his patience. When Debbie and I served together in Young Womens there were times I asked her for rides to various church activities. Many times he came, too, and I always felt flustered at first. I had to buckle in car seats and then get the kids buckled in one by one. I was worried that he was annoyed with the whole process (and the un-doing of it on the way home). But he never showed anything but patience and interest in the kids. On one ride he brought a book and read it backwards (much to their confusion). He also taught them that a cow says quack and a duck says moo (more confusion). He put me at ease and had us all laughing.

He also tutored Paul back in the day when he was trying to get his math out of the way to apply for graduate school (teaching someone who hadn't taken a math class for over fifteen years couldn't have been easy). He made pack meetings fun for all the kids, not just the Scouts: games and chocolate for everyone! His incentive for recruiting a new Scout was a pocketknife, which Isaac earned and still treasures. They thought to call us as soon as they heard about President Hinckley's passing. And the companionship I saw between he and Debbie is something special and hope to nurture in my marriage: he would say something to make her giggle and when she did, it put a smile on his face.

So at the funeral today they focused on celebrating his life. As we heard about how he treated his children, his work ethic, his faith, his accomplishments etc., I could feel of his goodness. And I thought about the reality of what the speaker taught: life is the time to prepare to meet God. I felt a renewed desire to keep that perspective when I feel like it doesn't really matter.

And while I'm here I can celebrate the lives of those around me. My life is full of people doing good, being good. Why wait for someone's funeral to recognize and celebrate someone's goodness? I can home with new eyes for seeing my children and new ears to hear their sweet words (Even their tattling/blaming/whining/arguing didn't phase me today). Celebrate their childhood!

Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you. That's what happened to me today and I sat long enough to ponder. And feel. And know.

Our family will miss you, Brother Dunn. God bless you in your continued journey.