A sad day: October 23, 2004

On this Saturday morning (it happened to be Mol day, as I learned in chemistry class), we all piled into the Suburban and drove down to Fillmore.

When we got there, my dad's dad, Grandpa Boyd, was lying on his bed, on oxygen. There was discussion that my uncles had given him a blessing, not that he would be healed but that he would pass away peacefully. They had also lowered his oxygen supply. My brother and I hadn't seen him in that condition, although the rest of the family had. David started crying as soon as he saw them. Since I don't show emotion, I wasn't going to cry, but David's tears made mine flow. Everyone kept telling us that although Grandpa couldn't talk, he could hear us. I said to him, "We love you." My brother said, "I remember when I wouldn't eat sugar, it was always Grandpa Boyd who was the one person who could get me to eat it." (Well, those weren't his exact words, but it was something like that.) I think my mom might have brought up that Ya-ping was soon having a baby, who would be born in November just like my grandparents were. We left the room. I remember Ya-ping crying, even though she and Dave had only been married a year.

I remember doing my algebra homework on the couch in the living room, and my cousin Cannon offered his help (I might have been having calculator trouble). On the TV the family was watching a video of Grandpa Boyd earlier that week, when he had just received his grim diagnosis. Cannon was saying, "I can't believe he was like this just this week." He had gone downhill fast. I remember my dad walking around with a sad look on his face. He was carrying Allie, who was asleep on his shoulder (she was 1).

After some time, my cousin Amory came out and said to everyone, "You might want to go in there." Grandpa had apparently opened his eyes--I can't remember if they said he had breathed or said something or what. But I remember thinking that I didn't want to go in if he was dying. But them my mom went in, so I went in too. They said my grandpa had opened his eyes and had a peaceful look on his face. My cousin Mary proceeded to take wet rags and put them at his wrists and things and my sister had to leave the room. Later my cousin Kim came with their funeral home hearse, and my sister said she couldn't watch as they took my grandpa's body to the car.

I remember sitting on the couch, probably doing homework, when the bishop came by. I remember thinking I was veritably in a small town, for he was a true cowboy and even had cowboy boots.

Then we drove home. When we got home, my mom called her sister. I think Sue asked her if Grandpa had
passed away, and my mom starting crying and said yes. I remember her saying that my grandma had asked her to stay in the room with my grandpa's body, and that my mom had said, "Thanks Boyd," and at that moment the clouds broke for just a second and sunlight lit the room before it got dark again.

It was a sad day.