Boys and their toys

January 5, 2014

Doug, Joe, and I were just kids then. We were part of a group of young teens in an LDS Boy Scout group in Scottsdale, Arizona. Brother (?) Montana was the leader of the band. He had been an NFL football player and with some of his earnings had purchased an auto dealership on Camelback Road just East of 12^th Street in Phoenix. He provided us with a 1950 Ford coup which we took on a project. The idea was to transform it from a heap of junk to a done buggy supreme. We all worked on it diligently and enjoyed some great learning and doing experiences and with significant assistance from Brother Montana it actually became a working object. I honestly can’t remember what happened to the beast but the most important part of the activity was the doing. Pictures of the beast are around somewhere. Doug might actually dig them out and share them and I will pass them on for your edification.

This Christmas Jean and I purchased matching remote cars very similar in purpose to the beast. Why you ask?  We gave them to each other because we wanted something to increase our bond and together time. These funny little cars are just plastic with funny lights and weird movements. They are really cool and make the cat go crazy, but doing things together is critical to our success as a couple of kids looking forward to fifty years of marriage in a year and a half. We have always had our own toys. Jean makes quilts for all the grandchildren as they reach eight years old and are baptized. She enjoys her life making things from cloth and thread. I have my construction activities and find building houses, remodeling rooms, basements, and whatever else I can get my hands on. These are our temporal passions. These are the things we can’t take with us. In my mother’s words, “Duane, there is no U-Haul to Heaven.”

So, what can we take through the veil? Well, we can take our love for our family. We can take our memories, our intelligence, our understandings of Eternal things, and our wonder at the love and care our Heavenly Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost provide each of us. Mother (Grandmother Lucy) went to a funeral with her sister, Lola (Dolores Salazar Candelaria). The poor fellow had no family, lived alone way out on the New Mexico ranching plains in an area by Fence Lake and Salt Lake, New Mexico. The funeral was in a home with no pretext or pretense that God was in his life. In fact, he was a non-believer. The funeral was brief and cold. Auntie Lola being the kind that found it hard not to share some kind thought about everyone with whom she came in contact said as they departed, “well, his hair looked like it had been combed well.” That old farmer was sure surprised when he reaches the other side to find loving people welcoming him and wishing him well in the eternities.

Lynda (my sister) and I went to lunch yesterday. She shared with me that she had been placed on hospice and that her kidneys were rapidly failing. We talked of things past and things in the future. We talked about our desires when our lessons in this life had been learned and we were ready to pass through the veil to the eternal realms. We both expressed sadness that we had made mistakes and lost the confidence of some of those we love. We agreed that the activities surrounding our passing would be those associated with celebration of life and appreciation/love for those with whom we had shared this wonderful life. Further that we were ready and willing to move on to Paradise, our judgment from the books of life by our Savior. We called our brother, Glenn, and shared those feelings with him and all was good.

God bless each of you as you move through this wonderful experience. Love those around you. Love your enemies. Love God. Love yourself.

Duane Jacobs, grandfather, father, brother cousin, uncle, and friend