If there were a picture that gave description about that for which I cared, this would be it.
That's my brother, on the left, my dad looking down and my wife crouched in front of Grandpa Lyman's grave. Here is a representation of my grandfather in a more robust time:
3-29-2000
Dear Lee,
I am always happy to receive your letters and feel of your spirit.
We are doing fine and are not ready to plow as we still have 1 1/2 feet of snow. We had a few warm days and the snow started to melt, but has cooled off a little.
The price of milk is still low, but the price of gas is still going up.
We went to Idaho Falls last Friday to see Melanie fly in. She surely looked good. Had a lot of wreaths around her neck. I believe she put one on each that was there. [I think he meant to say Leighs.]
She reported her mission Sunday and the church was filled with people. She did very good. She has certainly grown spiritually since being on her mission.
Last Sunday we rented a couple of snow machines and everyone had a real time riding them.
I got word Monday of my very dear friend Dwayne Linford Died. Grandma and I are going to the funeral. They asked me to dedicate the grave. It is being held in Lehi, Utah. The funeral is Thursday, so we are leaving this afternoon and going to Tremonton tonight to stay then on to Lehi tomorrow. We are taking Aunt Vicki with us from Salt Lake.
No: Jet isn't ruined. As soon as spring comes, we'll get her ridden.[Jet was a horse that I tried to ride just after it was broken. The mouth bit was loose and for a few eternal seconds I had a bucking rodeo out in the hayfield.]
Learning patience is a hard job, but it is very important. We are always being tried, so don't give up. Can you imagine how many times our Heavenly Father has been tried by each of us?
Well, keep up the good work, and know that you are in our prayers daily.
We love you and are always happy to hear of your great efforts to do this great work.
Love,
Grandpa & Grandma
Crook
I have studied a lot of things and known a lot of smart people. But nobody I have known in this life was as wise and as smart as my grandfather. He was a humble farmer, born in the homesteading era in Star Valley at the turn of the 20th Century. For all of my vain intellectual pursuits in my life, no conversations have been as meaningful, purposeful, and insightful as the conversations I had with Grandpa Lyman lying down in the grass under the cottonwood trees next to the Simpson Hill. The sun was spotting through the tops of the trees as they do on a breezy day, and the faint sound of the combine could be heard from atop the hill, where my uncle was harvesting grain.
I have a lot of memories that last summer working on the farm before going on a mission. They are all special to me. I was not ready for him to pass away. He was a father figure to me. I miss him dearly. When I returned from my mission, and was off for the summer from college, I would take a motorcycle up to the Freedom Cemetery late at night and talk to him. That simple grave stone was an important marker left behind of his life. I know it was just his body under the earth, but the monument represents more than that. It is a symbolic intermediating object between my remaining on this earth and him returning to God. I felt that there was so much more that he could teach me about life, and when I returned home nothing in life was the same. This headstone came to mean a lot to me...the weight of the granite, not just a good object to engrave information to resist erosion, but the granite itself became a sort of anchor to help me deal with a world changing too quickly.
Rest in peace, Lyman. And what I mean by that is don't work too hard on the other side!
Happy Memorial Day!
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