Thoughts from my Mom in Her Own Words

read by Megan at the funeral

One of the fortune cookie fortunes from our last Panda Express takeout order said “You will soon find new adventure…” I can’t remember now if it was mine or his—but it fits either way.

The autopsy indicated that his heart was enlarged and overworked…yes and yes. Over the last several days I have been reminded of all the stupid conversations we had about death, even as recent as two days before his passing, and I can’t help wondering if it was a kind of preparation.

Years ago the family was standing around the piano singing “Be Still My Soul.” The second verse reads:

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

God guides the future just as He does the past. When we sang those words the spirit impressed upon me their truth. I decided there was going to come a day when I would need to remember that. This is that day.

Our new normal over the last few months became him working from home and saying “I’m never going back”—meaning he learned he could do the work from home just fine. There were the constant Home Depot deliveries and pickups, and the date nights at home with takeout and a movie. What a blessing that we seriously were together 24/7.

Lance was proud to be a miner. It was his high school mascot and he worked for a mining company here in Arizona. He learned all about the process of mining copper and he would tell you about it if given the chance. He would get very excited about it and I would often remind him, “You know you’re the accountant, right?”

As much as he loved being a miner he wanted to be a farmer. Lately he’d been wanting to buy overalls online, and for some reason men’s overalls started popping up on my side bar. He wanted to be a simple man, wanted eggs from his own chickens and to grow a garden, even in the Arizona heat. He never felt completely comfortable in our 5-bedroom house on Faith St. He didn’t feel like that was him. He was the guy with the acre of land and a thousand projects out back to keep him happy. The overalls would have completed the look.

He loved working. Not once did he not have a job during our entire 38½ years of marriage except when he chose retirement. But he was restless, anxious for a more important work—serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He spoke of it more and more over the years and would go on the mission site almost everyday and tell me what the needs were throughout the world for senior couples. In case you’re wondering, the picture on the program cover is his missionary photo. He asked Darr Moore to take pictures of us in the traditional missionary couple style. Of course, this was taken last December, well before we could even get serious about going since he was serving as bishop. He would be happy to know that his sister and brother-in-law are not here, they are watching from their mission in Australia. He would not have wanted them to come home for this. He was diligent, especially this year, in working to improve his health. He didn’t want there to be any restrictions to his mission call. He wanted the Lord to be able to use him anywhere in the world.

Lance was unselfish—like, extremely unselfish. He would not like me telling you this--not at all, so pretend you didn’t hear it from me--but he kept a stein bought in Germany on his dresser that was filled with 100’s, 50’s and 20 dollar bills. He liked having that cash on hand to be able to give away at a moment’s notice to someone in need. Sometimes he would slip it into the hands of one of his children, give it to me in an envelope to pass along or to leave on a doorstep. He much preferred being anonymous. I checked the stein and there is one last 20 dollar bill. Through the years, that stein has been replenished many times, and given away.

He put God first, me second, and the children next. I never felt second, of course, our shared love for our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ united us. He was a huge proponent of marriage and I knew he didn’t just believe in our marriage, but he believed in marriage as a sacred, fundamental principle for God’s children here upon the earth.

Maybe it goes without saying, but Lance wanted children—how ever many the Lord would send. He loved that his children grew to be good, responsible people and it sometimes surprised him because he felt strongly his lack as a father.

He loved the temple. He loved his ancestors. He loved family history. He loved church history. He read scriptures everyday in the wee hours of the morning. He would read the four standard works every year.

Lance served pretty much exclusively in church leadership positions during our time in Arizona, but he would say, “Can I just be a family history consultant?” He loved serving but he’d always say “Why me? I’m just a normal guy.” He loved to serve but he did it because he loved the Lord and it was what the Lord asked of him.

To the Pueblo Ward I want you to know that he loved you. One of his greatest thrills was using his Spanish in his employment and his church calling, but serving you and with you went way beyond the language. I wish I could express in Spanish what you meant to him so you could feel my words more fully. I’m so happy you can listen to this service in Spanish at the other building but I am sorry not to see your faces today. And Brother Ponce, Brother Villalba, and Brother Lopez—oh, how he loved you and respected you—so, so much.

Lance would not be happy that any funeral remarks painted him as perfect, so I’ll state for the record that he wasn’t. Only one man on this earth ever was. And that was the man that my husband strived to be like—the Savior, Jesus Christ.

All of the kind words expressed, all the food and flowers shared, all the tears and laughter that have filled our home the past few days are a testament to who Lance was. As an extension of that they serve as a testimony of Jesus Christ, and he would want you to know that.

He wanted to be simple, he wanted to be normal. You form your own conclusions.

In his journal he wrote about speaking to my dad on the phone to tell him of our engagement—after the fact. We were at BYU, my parents in Texas. It was an awkward conversation because fresh in my parents’ minds was my obsession with a different boy who was on a mission. Lance wrote: “I guess they’re wondering how she changed her mind about the missionary that she was so set on marrying. Oh, well—as soon as they meet me they’ll understand.”

We were married for time and all eternity, but what is eternity? Sometimes it doesn’t mean a lot when you’re just trying to get through the day, or even the hour. It’s not until they’re gone, maybe, that you realize how very much you want eternity with them. I have an inkling now of what forever is because it will feel that long until I see him again.

So to the boy still obsessing over his mission to Spain when I met him at the ward dance, who asked where I was from and said, “It’s not Amarillo, it’s ama-reo;” the one I danced with and because we didn’t stop talking, we danced again. To the boy who listened to me and my never ending questions because like I always told you, Lance, you are the smartest person I know. To the boy who would laugh and talk with me no matter the hour...

...I’m not done talking to you.

Grandchildren Thoughts & Memories

 read by Kara at the funeral

One of my dad’s favorite names was Grandpa. He was adored by 17 grandkids. He especially loved going out back with them to see the chickens and the tortoise, and to show them the garden. When he visited his Grandpa Edwards as a child, his grandpa would give him a quarter, so our dad decided he wanted to give his grandkids a dollar coin every Sunday when they came for dinner. Our mom was like, really? A dollar? Every time? But he insisted, so the grandkids have been filling their piggy banks with coins from Grandpa. Today at the gravesite, each grandchild will put one coin on his casket. 

 Sometimes when the rest of us were involved in playing a game, we would look over at the kid’s table or the living room floor and Grandpa would be playing Uno or Candyland with the grandkids. He was often found rolling around on the floor with grandkids all over him. It reminded us of playing a game as kids called “Jump on Dad” where it was us against him in a tickle fight. We always seemed to lose, and when someone started crying, Mom would make us stop. 

Each grandchild shared a favorite thing or memory about him:

Eileen age 10’s favorite memory is giving him special artwork they made for him on Father’s Day that he really liked. 

Evie, age 10, says, “He always came to every soccer game and was always positive and congratulated us even if we did a bad job or lost the game.”

Morgan, age 8, says, “I loved playing rock, paper, scissors, pickle with him.”

Evanie age 7’s favorite memory was every time we would sleep over at his house, he would wake up early and make us eggs for breakfast—eggs from his chickens. 

Emmy, age 6, says, “I like that Grandpa always checked on us when we were swimming in his swimming pool.”

Parker, age 6, says, “I liked looking at his plants and picking grapefruit from his trees.” 

After finding out about his death, Elena, age 5, said, “Is Grandpa going to be the tooth fairy now?” 

Whenever he was told he was going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, Jayden, age 4, would ask, “Which grandpa? The one with the chickens?” 

Dottie, age 4, says, “He let me go with him through the maze of his backyard and we saw lots of little yellow flowers and we went under a pointy bush so we wouldn’t get poked.” 

Greyson, age 4, says, “I’m excited to get a pumpkin from Grandpa’s pumpkin patch, and carving a monster in it on Halloween day.” 

One time when Grandpa gave Lachlan, age 3, a coin Grandpa showed him how he could put it in a little pocket on his shirt. Every time after that when he got a coin, Lachlan would try to put it in his shirt pocket and when he didn’t have a pocket, he would just put the coin down his shirt.

This is a conversation my sister, Kristen, had with her son, Blake, age 3, after Grandpa’s death:

“We are going to Grandma’s house now but Grandpa isn’t there anymore, he is in heaven.”  

Blake said: “In heaven with Jesus? I saw Jesus at Grandma Ipson’s house.” 

Kristen replied: “Okay, but there is going to be no more Grandpa, no more chickens, no more eggs, and no more coins.” 

Blake said: “Is there going to be dinner?” 

Kristen said, “Yes.” 

And Blake said, “Okay, lets go!” 

Kendall, age 3, called Grandpa’s house “Grandpa and Grandpa’s house” instead of including Grandma.

Brigdon, age 2, loved holding Grandpa’s hand to go outside to see his chickens. 

Aslin, who is about to turn 2, loved playing games with Grandpa and called him “Baylo” instead of the Spanish word for Grandpa which is “Abuelo.” 

And Carson and Kolton, age 10 and 7 months, loved staring at Grandpa and grabbing his glasses when he held them.

There is no doubt in my mind that he loved each one and they loved him.