A Life Well Lived

Grandpa Cliff

1925 - 2009

Years ago, when I was teaching 7th grade in an underprivileged junior high, I taught a unit on autobiographies. I brought my grandpa's life story, "The Time of My Life" and read excerpts to my students. These students, who sometimes where hard to motivate and definitely were, for the most part, not avid readers, were captivated by my grandpa's stories. "Where can we buy this book? Can we check it out from the library? Can we borrow your copy?", their questions ran.

 

Grandpa Cliff truly lived his life well. He lived a life of adventure. He was a hero. Someone who exemplified courage, strength, vision, determination and integrity. When Grandpa was in second grade, he met my Grandma Carol. He told her that he would marry her and, sure enough, after years of chasing her, the day after they graduated from high school he sold his baseball card collection, rabbits and bicycle and hitch-hiked to the Salt Lake Temple to marry the love of his life. Just days later he was sent to WWII. During the Battle of the Bulge he received the Purple Heart after being hit by shrapnel. He returned by train to Provo, with a limp and a cane, ready to begin his life with his new bride. Despite humble beginnings and family whose expectations were a life working on the railroad, my grandpa had big dreams. He received a bachelors, masters and then a PHD, which led him to a career in Microbiology. My Grandpa worked for the Defense Department with highly classified material. At one point during the Cold War he discovered he was working with Russian spies. At the age of 80 he was summoned to the pentagon for a debriefing on information that he was never "declassified" on, providing vital details that he was still able to recall. After "retiring", he was asked to lead tours all over the world, taught at Dixie College, researched and wrote for the LDS Church Museum and the Sons of Utah Pioneers and, most recently, instigated, planned and accomplished placing historical plaques and markers throughout the St. George area, including planning a historical park on the Virgin River. 

Just as my grandpa's love of life was driven by enthusiasm, so was his love of family. 

My early memories of my grandpa are playing in the perfect red tree house that he built for his grandchildren in a huge cherry tree. I remember sitting around the fire at the cabin listening to his poems and stories or, during the winter, him loading all the grandchildren in the snowmobile sled and taking us for ride after ride. I remember when I was only 6, watching my grandpa carve, day after day, a baby cradle for his grandchildren to sleep in. Thirty years later, the cradle is still passed from grandchild to grandchild, but now we are placing our own babies inside. My children have all slept in the cradle and have their names engraved down the sides. I remember my grandpa taking us on desert trips in Utah's West desert, a place where no one goes, but a true wonderland, full of geode beds, wild horses, Pony Express relics, hot springs and desolate farmers, who serve the best farm cooked breakfasts to their old friend, Cliff, as well as his guests. I remember family reunions all around the country, full of sight seeing, family games and dinners. Grandpa would host a family Christmas party each year. He made sure that each child had an opportunity to perform and handed out the gifts that my grandma carefully chose for each family member throughout the year. 

Most recently, I was especially touched that my grandma and grandpa would plan a trip out to visit us. They scheduled an Elder Hostel Tour in Boston and stayed both weekends at our home. The first weekend we took a day trip to Maine. I will always remember eating Lobster near the Nubble Light House and then stopping for Rum Raisin ice cream at a little stand down the road. 

But my favorite memory of the day was stopping at Ogunquit Beach. The sun came out from the clouds and cast a beautiful light on the deserted sand. It lasted long enough for us to take pictures with my grandparents, with a little bit of time left over to play. The kids started to organize a race along the waves. Despite his cane and impending hip replacement, Grandpa wouldn't be left out of the fun. He came in last but was the best sport in the group as he hobbled across the finish line. We were all so happy together. 

That weekend my kids discovered that the only state that my grandpa hadn't been to was Rhode Island. We immediately made a plan to get him there! My children will never forget cheering when we crossed the Massachusetts / Rhode Island state line. Nor will they forget a day at the mansions and walking along the cliff walk with their great-grandparents. Despite being completely worn out from a week of sight seeing, including a brutal fall, Grandpa would not pass up seeing the kids' Saturday morning sports. He cheered at each kick in the right direction and semi-aggressive steal.

I remember, before my grandparents came to visit, feeling concerned about how they might cope in a busy house with five small children. My grandpa couldn't have been more enthusiastic and complimentary about our family. He played the "grape game" over and over, that he and the girls made up. He kept commenting on how smart my children are, how well behaved they are and what a good mother I was being, all the right things to say to a tired mother of five. I truly felt so loved by my grandpa, as did my children. 

Prior to going into the hospital for heart surgery, I called my grandpa to tell him how much I loved him. I mentioned that we would be coming to St. George for winter break and I would stop by to see him after his operation. He made me promise, regardless of the circumstances, that I would bring my children to see him. I remember walking into the hospital room and seeing my grandpa hooked up to machines and tubes, clearly in pain. Once again, his enthusiasm for his family was obvious. The nurse mentioned that, although he had had many visitors over the past several days, it was this day that he told the nurses he must he showered and shaved because his grand children were coming to see him. Each of my children brought a card they had made for him. Grandpa was so excited about each message, drawing or poem they created for him. He even read them to three other sets of visitors who stopped by while we were there. 

Today has been a day of tears in our family. On our way home from our Spring break trip, we received the call that Grandpa wasn't going to make it through the day. Fortunately I was able to talk to him over the phone one last time. Then the call came that he no longer wanted his oxygen and then finally the call came that he had passed away. 

Throughout his life, Grandpa filled each day with adventure, curiosity and purpose as well as love. Although today has been a day of sadness at our loss, I explained to my children that the best way to honor and love our grandpa is to live the best life we can. I am grateful that we have Grandpa Cliff's excellent example of how to live life well.