(This post is mainly for my kids. I want them to remember their Great-Grandpa MacKay. It is very long, but there are pictures at the end.)DAVID O. MACKAY III
David O. MacKay III 1921 ~ 2009 David O. MacKay III passed away peacefully October 13, 2009, at the age of 88.Born on August 15, 1921 in National, Carbon County, Utah to David O. MacKay, Jr. and Mary Hannah Collins, he grew up in Roosevelt and later, Provo, Utah. Active in high school sports, he played basketball, tennis, and football. He married his high school sweetheart, Loa Gurr, on May 20, 1941, in the Salt Lake Temple. Together they have six children, 30 grandchildren, and 48 great-grandchildren.After graduating from the American Institute of Interior Design in New York, David worked as an interior designer in Provo and Salt Lake. Much of his time was spent in decorating the interiors of temples and mission homes. David was a faithful member of the LDS church, serving in many leadership positions including bishop for nine years, branch president at the Primary Children's Hospital, and as a temple sealer for 17 years in the Salt Lake Temple. He and his wife served a mission from 1988 to 1990 in the New Zealand Temple.As a forward observer in World War II, he was awarded the bronze star, serving on active duty for three years and in the reserves for an additional six years. David was preceded in death by his parents, four brothers, and only sister. He is survived by his wife, Loa, his brother, Leonard MacKay, and his six children, David Brent (Jane) MacKay, Kathleen (Dennis) Canning, Beverly (Gerald) Platt, Patricia (Jon) Ashton, Brian (Stacey) MacKay, and Douglas (Julie) MacKay.Funeral services will be held Saturday, October 17th at 11:00 a.m. at Larkin Mortuary, 260 E. South Temple, with a viewing from 10:00 a.m. to 10:45 a.m. Interment at the Salt Lake City Cemetery with full military honors.My Grandpa passed away last week (Oct. 13, 2009). It has been an emotional weekend for our family, and we were lucky to be able to have
all of our family gather for the service.
But I think I would like to (for my kids) point out a difference in feeling that I experienced. When my Grandpa Ashton passed away about 10 years ago, I was a senior in High School. This was my first experience with losing a loved one. I wasn't very mature, and my testimony of the gospel was just barely starting to stand on it's own. I didn't take the news very well, and I remember just crying and crying and having all kinds of guilt and regret. (The week previous I had been having these feelings like I
needed to call my Grandpa. I never acted upon those feelings.) He lived in Utah and I lived in California, so visiting him was not really much of an option for me. When I heard of his passing, I was so mad. I was mad at myself for not calling him one last time, and mad at God for letting him pass away. I hated seeing my dad so sad. I had never seen him cry before, and it tore me up inside. My Grandpa was my dad's hero and my joke-a-malothus. The funeral was very sad to me. I felt like I would never see him again. I felt like he was gone.
Now, compare that with my experience with my Grandpa MacKay's passing. 10 years later, I am a wife, and a mother. I love the gospel and I understand it a little bit more. I am trying to teach my kids to learn of it's sweet messages and blessings. The gospel is what can bring us ultimate happiness in this life and the life to come. I know I don't know everything, but I am trying to learn a little bit more day by day. My life feels fuller and has more peace when I am striving to do what is right. I love my Savior and I know that through Him, I will see my Grandpa again. I also know that because of Him, my Grandpa is happy and healthy and strong again. Because I lived closer to this Grandpa, I was more aware of his health conditions, and so his passing did not come as a shock to me, as did my Grandpa Ashton's. (I was able to say my goodbyes) I knew how tired he was and how he hated to lose his independance. He spiraled pretty rapidly and was ready to go. His funeral left me with, not a feeling of loss, but with an apreciation for such a wonderful man. I thanked God for allowing such a man to live as long as he did. I rejoiced that he was happy and with his loved ones who had gone before. I was of course sad for his wife and children, but I know they are also assured of his eternal welfare. That was the comparison I want my kids to someday read and understand.
My grandpa was an extraordinary man, and at the service, I was able to learn a
little more about him. I
knew he was a soldier in WWII and was awarded the Bronze Star for his heroic efforts, but I never really knew much more. He didn't like to talk about those times and so I never asked. I was afraid of making him sad. But what I learned during his memorial service was WHY I never heard his stories of heroism. Or WHY his medals and honors were never up for display. My Grandpa was a man of Service. Never a man of Glory. He was (as my uncle Brian stated,) the King Benjamin of the Book of Mormon. Ever faithful to his Lord and always of service to his country and his fellow man. He exemplified King Benjamin's words..."when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God" (Mosiah 2:17) He was not boastful in his service, he only did what he believed to be right. He was a teacher to many just by his example.
I wish I had a better memory so that I could write a book about my Grandpa, for my kids to read. But one thing I want Jaden to know, is how proud I was of him for the way he was able to deal with this. This was his first experience with the loss of a loved one. For a 5 year old, he surprised me with his emotional maturity. Here's a little bit of background on the relationship:
Jaden and Kaleb have had the opportunity to live close to their Great-Grandparents, and share Sunday dinner for over a year. My mom cooks a delicious feast every Sunday and invites all of her kids and her parents. This has been a blessing to all of us, just for the fact that we got to see them each and every Sunday. Life is busy, and we don't go out to see my grandparents as much as we should, but we know we can always count on Sunday dinner. (Thank you Mom, for your diligence and hard work in keeping our family even closer, week after week.) Jaden and Kaleb grew close to my grandparents by accompanying my mom in taking them home after dinner. They loved to ride the elevators, and "escort" Grandma to her room, and every time they left, Grandma would let them take home some "lion cookies." I think Grandma and Grandpa had a particular fondness of those 2, and I really hope the boys can hold on to these memories.
Well, last Sunday, we learned that Grandpa wouldn't be with us much longer. So Monday we went to visit him. He was in a hospital bed in his room, and was laying there with his eyes closed. I went and sat with him and told him who was there and he said, "hi." Grandma told Grandpa that Jaden and Kaleb were also there, Jaden said hi, and Grandpa said hi. Grandma told Kaleb to say hi, but he wouldn't. He was a little nervous. So Grandma said to Kaleb, "say, hi Grandpa." And instead of Kaleb repeating, my Grandpa said, "Hi Grandpa!" That made the boys just laugh and laugh. And then they were a little more comfortable. We stayed for a while and chatted with my Grandma, then said our goodbyes. Later that night, Jaden said to me, "Mom, Great-Grandpa is really sick, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"And he's really old, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think his days are numbered."
"What? What do you mean?"
"I think he isn't going to live much longer. I think his days are numbered...... I wonder what that number will be.... I think it's 3."
We had been reading the Book of Mormon together, and it says, "his days were numbered" a lot right before a prophet passes away.
"And you know what else?"
"What?"
"I think Great-Grandma is old too. And her days are numbered. But I think her number is bigger than Great-Grandpa's."
"You do?"
"Yes. I think it's 200."
2 days later we heard the news of his passing. When I talked to Jaden about it, I thought it would be okay. I was composed and happy that Grandpa could be at peace, and be his younger self again. But I was not expecting, nor was I prepared for the kind of reaction I got from Jaden. After I had finished explaining to him that Great Grandpa had gone to live with Heavenly Father again, and that he was happy and had no more pain, Jaden just looked up at me with sad eyes, and said,
"But I think my Grandma is so so sad that her Daddy has died. And that makes me want to cry."
He tried hard to be brave and fight back the emotion... which killed me. As soon as he said those words and I saw the look of sadness and concern for my mom in his face, I just got so choked up, and battled to control my own wave of emotion so that I could be there for him. I just hugged him and told im what a good son and grandson he was. And that he had such a big heart and how lucky I was to have him. And then he said,
"And I know my Great Grandma is so sad and now she is all alone, and I don't know where she will go."
Again, I was amazed at how sensitive Jaden was for his age. I'm ashamed to admit, that the thought of where Grandma would live next hadn't yet crossed my mind, until my 5 year old put it there. I told him I wasn't sure, but that things would get figured out. He then said,
"I want to go visit her 200 times because she is all alone."
What a sweetie. When we arrived at the funeral, I was a little nervous about letting Jaden see my Grandpa. Personally, I never like seeing the bodies because they never look the same to me, and I don't like my last look at them to be that way. But Jaden wanted to look. I'm not sure what Kaleb thought or if he even knew what was going on, or
who was in the casket. He took one look, and turned around quickly and went to my mom. Jaden said a few words to Charles:
"This is terrible. Just terrible. Why is he wearing glasses? He doesn't need his glasses anymore. And what is he wearing? It looks like underwear. But his face looks really good." Then he became very sad as he said again, "This is terrible." Charles said
he almost broke down at that point, but held his composure.
I was doing alright. That's one good thing about having a bunch of little kids to take care of... they can distract you from your feelings. Whenever I started to feel the emotion rise to the surface I could switch my focus to a kid, and regain control. But it was extremely hard to do once I saw my mom cry. Even just thinking about it now, makes me choke up. Kare kept saying, "Don't look at Mom, don't look at Mom... oh WHY did I put mascara on today!" I have a special fondness for my Aunt Bev, and when I saw her hug her husband and sob into his shoulder it was also extremely hard. I can't imagine what it must feel like to have to say goodbye to a parent. I hope I'm lucky enough to not have to know for a VERY long time.
Right before the memorial service began, Grandma wanted to talk to all her kids and grandchildren. I had a hard time hearing everything that she said, but I remember her telling us that she doesn't know why her heart isn't bigger. She feels so much love for each and every one of us and she thinks her heart should be bigger. She told us how much she and Grandpa love us and that we need to stay close to our parents because they love us and know what's best for us. She told us to stay close to the gospel and our Savior. She said that when we get angry, to not hold it in our hearts but to let it go. I know she said more, but I just can't remember.
Next we went into the chapel for the service. Julianne played the piano. She did a lovely job. I joked about being glad to have wasted Mom and Dad's hard money on piano lessons so that I would never be asked to play in public, but the truth is, I wish I could play like Julianne. Anyway, Doug conducted, and then Mom was first to speak. She gave the Eulogy. I wanted to always remember the stories she told, so I copied her talk:
My Dad’s personal history begins like this:
“As the story has been told to me, it began on Monday, August 15, 1921, in a place not found on any of the maps you find laying around the house, at National in Carbon County, Utah. I was the fourth son, and the fifth child born to my parents, David Orson MacKay Jr., and Mary Hannah Collins. Not only was I not ushered into this life in a hospital, but not even in a town that could boast of having a family doctor.”
His mother wrote this about him:
“He had red curly hair, blue eyes and was quite a good looking boy considering the parents he had and he grew up just as any normal child did.”
“He went to elementary school where they had big stoves fueled by coal and cedar wood, and no indoor toilets. He made it through first grade, and on the last day of school he came home and had a good cry because Miss Leithey wouldn’t be his teacher any more. He enjoyed playing with his older brothers and their little red wagon, two would be the horses and one would be the driver. He did his chores of fertilizing the garden, getting coal and wood chips and taking out the ashes.”
“He was quite a proud little chap and always had to look just so. He always wore striped bib overalls and a long sleeve shirt to school. He wore knee trousers for Sunday with shirts with French cuffs and real cufflinks. That has never changed. He still likes to look nice today.”
When he was asked what was the most trouble he ever got into Dad said:
“We had a watermelon bust at the school grounds. There was a light in the middle of the playground. My friends threw watermelon rinds at the light and couldn’t hit it. I said that I could do that. I threw the rind and knocked out the light. The next Monday a policeman showed up at the school and took me to the police station. He said that he was going to put me in jail until I got the light paid for. My parents made me earn the money myself.“
Dad remembered a good friend who was a Native American who got paid $7.00 a week to go to the white school. He said, “He and I lived quite well on that $7.00.“
Dad spent most of his summers working on his Grandmother Collin’s farm. The family moved to Roosevelt and then in 1936 they moved to a little chicken farm in Provo .
He attended Lincoln High School where he played basketball, football, and tennis. It was there that he met my Mom. He said:
“Loa was sewing after school and she was sitting on a sewing machine talking to a friend. I pushed her down the hall on the machine. I stole her away from Angus my brother, she was going with him. I always wanted her to go to my basketball games and she said, ‘OK, but you have to look at me before you throw the ball on free throws,’ and I did, so she kept coming to my games. She really liked sports and tried to play tennis with me.”
They became engaged on Valentine’s Day and were married on May 20, 1941 in the Salt Lake Temple. They built a small apartment in Mom’s parents’ basement. He was drafted soon after and served in the army during World War II, as a forward observer, sneaking behind enemy lines and radioing the position of the enemy to his troops. Dad never liked to discuss his war experiences, nor did he ever display the medals he was awarded – perhaps because he returned home safely, but his brother Angus did not.
After his service he moved the family which now included two children to New York where he attended the New York School of Interior Design. He completed a three year course in two years. In the early spring he was called back into service in the Korean War.
He graduated in 1952 and moved back to Provo and then to Salt Lake. This is where the rest of our family was born and raised.
Dad worked as an Interior Designer for ZCMI until he retired. He was extremely devoted to the Lord and fulfilled his many church callings-no matter what it was to the best within him. Dad was very industrious and never liked to waste time. He always had some kind of project going. He loved to read and to learn and he loved to listen to good music.
Many of his journal entries are similar to this;
“Friday, March 22, 1985. Thank goodness for that noisy, no concern for feelings, efficient alarm. We heard it but it took us both an extra few minutes to roll out of bed and find our feet. Fixed mom cottage cheese, applesauce and a banana, my baloney on raisin bread, prayers and off to work, call later mom working late, boys behind. I am so dumb it took me five minutes to realize I hadn’t offered to help, called boys, said come if you can. Worked until after 10:00. Mom very tired, went right to bed, prayers, listened to hymns on stereo. Too tired to sleep, got mom and aspirin and cold drink, then she slept and so did I.”
He and Mom served a mission to New Zealand in 1988. In their missionary journal, they had carefully planned a birthday schedule to write to each of their grandchildren to make sure each one knew they were loved and to share their testimony with them.
Once when he was asked what his biggest fear was, he said that he was most frightened of not being worthy of gaining his exaltation. And in his personal history he shares his feelings about being faithful and obedient to the Lord. He wrote
“For quite some time I have had for myself a goal which I have never stated out loud or put on paper until now, but it is with me every day and night, always. I want to live a period of my life, even if it is ever so short, that each day I can truly say to myself, I am doing all that the Lord has asked me to do.”
Let me close with a short segment of the message that Dad wrote on the inside cover of a Book of Mormon to be shared by missionaries to investigators.
“My wife Loa, and I have a family of six children, three girls and three boys. They are all married now and we have 27 grandchildren. Our children, their wives and husbands and our grandchildren are the most precious things in our lives and we would give all we have for them. You see I know that our Heavenly Father planned that my family, my wife our children and grandchildren are to always be a family unit. When my wife and I were married, we were married by a person who had the authority to marry us for time and all eternity, not only for this life, but forever.”
His testimony of the gospel never wavered. And he helped each of us to gain and continually strengthen our own testimonies by his example. This is the precious legacy he left to us.
Mom did a beautiful job. She is very soft spoken and tried hard to make her voice heard. Next was Bev. She gave a few memories of her Dad, and the one I remember her telling was that once she had done something wrong, and instead of confessing, she put the blame on her older sister Kathy. She watched as Kathy took the punishment. Later she decided she was going to tell her Dad the truth, not because she wanted the punishment, but because he wanted him to be proud of her for choosing the right. I can't imagine Grandpa not being proud of Bev OR Mom. They are such good daughters, moms and grandmas. The BEST. Sometimes I get discouraged because I don't think I can ever live up to being as great a mom as the one I have. I don't know how I got so lucky to have her. She is the greatest example to me. (I love you, Mom.)
Then my oldest cousin, Christopher, spoke. He said something that I had never known, or most likely knew, but forgot: He said that he had a very unique experience with my grandparents. He said that when he was in the MTC getting ready to go on his mission (to Rome Italy, just like Charles) that he was there the same time as my grandparents. My Grandparents served a mission in New Zealand and they went through their training at the same time. Chris said that Grandpa was always seeking him out to ask him how he was doing. Grandpa mentioned many times to Chris about service. He encouraged him to always serve others. And that by doing so he will also be serving the Lord. He and Grandpa also used to invite Chris and his companion over for a pie after dinner. I thought that was so neat. A VERY unique and special experience. I like to think of it as my parents being in the MTC with Jaden. How amazing that would be.
Next my cousin Janny spoke. SHe was very emotional, and so all I could hear and understand was a story about the whole big family going to Disneyland, and the lady at the
It's a Small World ride wondering how she was going to get everyone on the same boat.
Then my cousin Liz sang a beautiful song, something about, "and then he walked with me." It was also a good thing I had Kaleb on my lap to distract me when it got too hard to listen. She has the most beautiful voice. Another one of my cousins (Zak) played the piano it was all so moving. Then my uncle Brian spoke about how when he was a kid Grandpa would record every General Conference and how he was sure D.O was in training to become a G.A. He also talked about how Grandpa is
his King Benjamin. I hope I never forget that. After that, my aunt Kathy spoke. I want to sy it was about the resurrection, but that was when my Kaleb was a little to restless for me to hear.
When the the service was over we headed over to the Cemetery for the Burial. I felt really inappropriate taking pictures, but I know how my memory is, and I know I needed to do it, if not for myself, then for my kids.
Dad dedicated the grave and did a wonderful job. I had never seen the service performed by military before. It was amazing. The bagpipes, the horn, the flag, the salutes. I felt very patriotic and a deeper appreciation for my Grandpa.
This is my favorite picture, where grandma is presented with the flag.
All the granddaughters placed a red carnation on top of the casket. This is Kare placing hers.
Jaden saluting Grandpa.
Jaden marching to Grandma.
Jaden giving Grandma a hug. What a sweet boy.
I learned that my Grandpa's brother, Angus, was killed in the Battle of the Bulge. The man sitting behind my Grandma also fought in the Battle of the Bulge. Only he was captured and became a POW. I sat and listened to the men tell stories as long as I could. I wished my Grandpa would have opened up more and told me his stories. But I understand why he did not. Perhaps now at Sunday dinner, I can ask Grandma some of those questions and not feel like I am upsetting Grandpa.
Here we are at the luncheon. It was at the luncheon where Ethan started labeling everyone as either a "Sayso" or a "Gon-gartlett." The creativity of my nephew never ceases to entertain me.
Afterwards we went back to Mom and Dad's to hang out. Alli decided to rock out to Julianne's iPod, which really made Jaden happy. Jaden started yelling, "Yeah Alli! ROCK it! ROCK it!" And then he and Bradley joined her.
Julianne, looking gorgeous.
The adorable Merrill clan.
Bradley hangin' out with Aunt Al.
Grandma's first Sunday dinner back at Mom and Dad's without Grandpa. She was tired, but cheerful.
Did I mention Batman was with us that weekend? He came with us everywhere.
Everywhere except for the funeral. And he was pretty bummed about that.
