I always get behind in blogging when I have something really important to blog about, but I don't feel like I have the time or correct emotions to do an adequate post. I don't want to go out of order, so I just stop blogging. My grandpa's death has been one of those posts. I have had an evolving relationship with my grandfather. I have come to discover that most adult relationships evolve as I get older and I see people and situations from different perspectives. As a very young child I would say that I was probably scared of my grandpa. Because of throat cancer as a young boy my grandpa had a really raspy voice. We were his first grandchildren so he hadn't really become a "grandpa" yet. I saw him as quite strict, as he was always "yelling" at us to respect our mom and "not talk to her like that". However, one of my earliest and most distinct memories is of him throwing a chair at their dog Lady, becasue she snapped at me. I remember feeling protected by him. In my minds eye I see him driving a boat, mowing lawns, working in the garage, wearing work clothes, watching tv in the tv room with grass wall paper, making silly faces at us as we drove off, fishing, talking about leaves, trees, and wildlife. Those are my memories before I was 5 or 6.
After that point I started seeing him in deeper, more meaningful ways. I didn't realize until I was married and a mother, but my grandpa Brown set a foundation in my mind for what "men do". It is interesting because my deepest values are linked to the gospel and I never saw my grandpa as a spiritual and religious man, but regardless my bearings seem to be set as he was a background character in almost all of my childhood experiences. My grandpa is a worker, a doer, a builder, a grower. He loved the outdoors and loved to work. He planted gardens, cared for orchards, raised bees, rabbits, and other small farm animals. He was up with the sun and ready to start working outside before I was ever out of bed. Life was made to be doing and he never shied away from doing it. No one ever asked him to do things, he rarely had busy or important callings, but he wore himself out in the care and work of others. He shoveled and mowed and just got to work. When he went on him mission he asked the property owner of the apartment complex if he could plant a garden. He grew fruits and vegetables that he delivered to everyone in the complex. He planted and cared for his gardens best he could until the year he died. It was no secret he didn't want to go on a mission. My grandpa is a simple man. He loved his home and liked being there. He loved going on vacations, but just to the mountains and deserts of Utah. He didn't have much interest in leaving home for 18 months. But Grandma wanted to go AND it was what they were supposed to do. It was his duty and grandpa always did his duty. That mission changed his life. He came home deeply spiritual. I believe he had a deeply spiritual experience early one morning while opening the temple in the veil room, but he never explicitly told me that. He came home and worked in the temple every week until they closed the Salt Lake temple almost 20 years later. He loved working in the temple. I saw his love for working on the earth into working in the temple. A true man. I could go on and on. In family search I have (and will continue) to upload memories and things people have shared and said at his funeral. He was a good man. One of the best.
I got the opportunity to go visit them on their mission, twice. Once with my mom and sisters and once by myself. It was so sweet and tender and one of my most favorite memories. Below are pictures from that trip.
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