The Passing of a Gentle Giant

Doug's younger brother, Thomas Owen McConochie, was laid to rest on Valentine's Day, an appropriate time for someone so beloved by his children and grand-children. Although it was a cold snowy day, our hearts were indeed warmed by all the comments and anecdotes of appreciation, good humor, and pure affection for this gentle giant which we saw and heard expressed during his funeral. The grandchildren were the pallbearers.

Sweet Lisa, Rod's wife.

Life remains jolly for the kids.

Tom's daughter Diane, a nurse at Utah Valley Hospital, with her son Kendall.

Zona and family launch garlands of helium balloons into the atmosphere as a final wish of good luck and love to Tom. The snow didn't deter her; nothing deters Z. She's always gone for what she wanted-- and people follow, knowing it will be exciting and fun and worthwhile and that she knows where she is going.

Here's one for you!

Choosing a few roses for mementos . Doug is watching from our red car located in the background. Since the wheelchair lacked snow chains, he watched from his ringside seat where he could hear the grave dedicatory prayer because microphones were set up for him. Very thoughtful!

Tom's grandson Doug McConochie and his young son reflect the deep grief the family members and children felt for the loss of their dear "Pa."

Livingstons braved the weather with us. They learned new things about their Uncle Tom-- the fine athlete he was, how smart at math (could do any problem in his head), and how he loved attending all the games and athletic endeavors of his grandchildren as long as he could.

Taking shelter under umbrellas from the very cold snow, which began falling at the gravesite. Zona, Susan, Diane, and Susan's husband affectionately called "Taj" behind them. Below are Susan and our daughter Cathy with me; neither of us had not seen Susan for years. So good to renew that connection!

Two cousins who always come off smiling, even with tears in their eyes.

Tom's daughter Allison with her nephew Bill; Glenna, a very dear family friend, on the side. As you can see, Allison is the ham of the family.

Hold it-- Isn't that Uncle Tom? Nope-- just Tom's grandson, Bill, who bears an uncanny resemblance to his grandpa at that age. He considers it a great compliment, and rightfully so. Both great athletes, 6' 2", curly dark hair, big smile, same McConochie mold. Both handsome dudes.

Two charmers: Cathy and her cousin Allison, Tom's youngest daughter and mother of four blond sons, including "the twins".....

or as Uncle Tom dubbed them,

" The Bookends."

Tom's son Rod with wife Lisa at the viewing. Rod will miss his weekly phone calls with his dad. Now Uncle Doug will have to chew him out!!

It is interesting how Diane also resembles her Grandma Vi. She made us feel a bit homesick for Viola. Below, Allison and Doug have a moment's reunion after too many years.

Susan and Taj. Wish they all lived closer.

Zona is a most unusual woman of great courage and personal strength. Famous among family and friends for her wit and good cooking, she was zealous and devoted in her care for Tom. He always spoke of her with great love and appreciation.

The family and grandchildren wrote Valentine messages which they placed in the casket with Tom, who would have appreciated them so dearly. How appropriate that he would have his funeral on this day of love and tribute.

To quote from Doug's brief obituary reading at the funeral:

"My brother Tom had a great testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and as long as he was able, he studied to increase his knowledge, and when he could no longer read, he listened to tapes and talks. Through his long trials he never doubted the truthfulness of the gospel.

Tom had a great love for life and a keen sense of humor. He was quick to see the best in others. He was very social, had a gentle spirit, and loved to be around people. Although his health challenges were great, he had a positive attitude and was patient. He passed away on the tenth of Feb., 2009, and was preceded in death by his parents, his sister Sandra, and brother Keith."

We will miss our gentle giant.

"The love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow,

and gladdens every heart.”

Pres. Dieter F. Uchtdorf, quorum of the Twelve Apostles, conference address Oct. 2008

To see a short video Allison took of the family:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixAzl8sKurY

Snowtime

SNOWTIME


Soon after arriving for a visit from California, Tony and Cathy gathered their children, Jaci and Garrett, with Peter and Eliza (cousins), and me (Grandma Barb) for a snow outing at Foothill Park.

And I'll huff and I'll puff, and maybe I'll make it to the top! This is exercise!

I'm sure glad I don't have to carry these discs myself, thinks Peter.

Ready, get set.... go!

Hurry up, Mom! You're in the way!

It was a great time to enjoy the fresh snow. Others were there too, but there was plenty of room for us. The snow was perfect, the air crisp and cold, but our snow suits were warm and we all felt toasty. The hills were steep and long. Armed with discs we tramped up and down, the children gleeful as they climbed the hills, slipping and sliding down sometimes before they even reached the top.

I was hoping I could climb these hills as easily as the children. (Tony doesn't count; he could climb Mt. Everest in an afternoon.)

Eliza doesn't trust the first run without a guide, and Tony, natch, is the best!











Garrett posed only twice for me. He was much too busy tramping up and down, racing and recovering to be bothered with photo shoots.


Cathy takes her first ride down the hill. Does it look this scarey to the children?

Too bad we don't have sound effects!!

Eliza can't wait for a disc.

This is too fun! Who can wait for a sled?

What's a little snow up the parka, after all?

Peter slows down for an instant to catch his breath. He has been working hard up and down this mountain.

Can we do this every day? Can we live here?

Garret, the fearless daredevil, ready to start another long steep descent.

Is it legal for him to go that fast?

Hi, Grandma! Want to go down with me?
Did you see me that last time? It's so cool!
(No pun intended!)

This reminds me of a roller coaster. Are you sure my bod can take this? Besides, I barely fit.

Grandma, you were the fastest of all!

Last run. Can we come back?

Of course. I always need more photos.

Always with camera. It beats words.

The end.

The First Snowfall

I love the first snowfall.

There is an element of mystery about the quality of stillness it creates,
especially at night when the radiance of the snow defies even the moonlight
to excel its quiet brilliance.


How I love the stark outline of dark post and fence and wall against the white,

...the silvery reflections everywhere,

the sight of heavy limb against the sky, and the soft sculpting of snow shapes.

Snow blossoms, it would seem, on branches at night.

How different things can look!

The night's snowfall filled the basketball hoop.

the silhouette of leaf and plant.....

...the curious patterns created when the snow silently,
one flake at a time,
fills up space and crevice...

layering precarious narrow walls of white atop phone wires,

thin tree branches, softening the sharp edges of

roof and rail, challenging us to look with new eyes .....
at the ordinary things around us.

The play of light and shadow astonishes,
amuses, and delights.

Though I secretly relish being first to tramp a trail through the glistening virgin snow....

yet part of me hesitates disturbing the ethereal beauty of a first snowfall.

A study in shapes and shadows.

Dressed for the cold, I've learned snow makes me feel vibrantly alive! The tingling of skin in the chilly air, the puff of breath like smoke, the falling flakes tickling my face bring a heightened awareness of the joy of living, even the joy of movement when bundled up like a snowman!

Children instinctively know this. They want to be one with the snow, to frolic in its loveliness and to create something-- a snow angel, snowballs, snowmen-- and to slide down a slope. Out of closets and chests come boots and hats, gloves, snow pants and puffy parkas. Their noise echoes across the snow, down the hills as they slide on sleds, discs, on bottoms or stomachs!

They must be first to experience it.

A surprising splash of color in the winter!

I love that first snowfall. It supplants ugliness with beauty. Even a scrappy bush takes on new sculpted form and comeliness. Rough edges are softened or erased. Scarred landscapes become inviting scenes worthy of an artist's brush. Light gathers around lampposts like halos in the snowfall. Every sound seems hushed.

Peace supplants noise.

Snow slows the world. Cars and people move cautiously, carefully through it. Our neighbors share greetings and conversation as they scrape away at driveways and sidewalks with their shovels. Sometimes they appear uninvited to clear the snow away, leaving happy gratitude in their wake. Sometimes a baked treat appears out of nowhere on the doorstep. The modern world of haste and aloofness disappears for a time.

Life slows down and feels peaceful.

The first snowfall seems like a gift to soften the expectation of long, cold, drab days of the winter season. This beauty will not last; it is as transient, nearly, as a rainbow. Slush will follow, and soon the lovely crystal night scenes and the brilliant days of enchantment will melt away, fading into drab colors and jagged, crusty salt-and-pepper ridges along the roadsides.

But for now... I will enjoy the first snowfall.

The end