James Martin Priest

      My grandfather, James Martin Priest, passed away on June 9th at 2:30 pm in the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center of complications with pneumonia, at the age of 84.
      There is a lot to say about his passing.  Though most of the feelings and emotions involved are recorded in my journal, these few thoughts I deemed worthy of share.
        A few weeks ago I stopped by my grandparents house on my way back up to Idaho.  As I pulled into the driveway, the thought crossed my mind 'this may be the last time for you to be with Grandpa'.  heeding this thought, I was sure to thank him during my visit for leading such a wonderful life.  I was sure to say 'I love you' when I left.  I got back in the car thinking 'I hope that was enough'.
        Dad called me the day before he passed away; 'Grandpa isn't doing too well' dad said, 'I really don't think that he's going to make it'.  I said 'when you get to the hospital, could you put me on the phone with him?'  I got a text a short saying 'Grandpa can hardly hear and hardly talk, so he sends his regards without the call'.  I thought for a moment about what I really wanted to say to him.  I texted back 'could you tell Grandpa that I'll be forever grateful for his decision to join the church?'  I fought back tears, realizing how much Grandpa had effected my life.
        The next day I got my fathers text saying 'Grandpa died'.  I left class and found a quiet place where I could have a moment of silence.
      During the final moments before they closed the casket, Grandma tearfully approached the still, peaceful figure of Grandpa, dressed in his temple clothing and lying on beautiful white cushions.  She put her hand on his chest and said "I love you Jim", and leaned down and kissed him.  Pulling away she paused and said in a quiet voice "later gater".  I grinned at Grandma's jovial remark.  It hit me how much she loved him, and how they really were, after all, best friends.  It was a sweet moment.
       Grandma and Grandpa were as old fashioned as it is possible to be.  There is something very sweet about the way they would kiss after blessing the food; it's as if you got to see something profoundly simple and beautiful, like an orchid in full bloom.  It was as if the plain and simple essence of love had decided to show itself, if only for a moment. Grandma would take his plate after dinner was over, and Grandpa would say "thanks mom, that was good".  They were always together.  They would tease and jest with each other during their conversations.  Finally Grandma would say "now listen here sir, you knock that off!"  Priceless.
       I love Grandpa, what a great example of a quiet and charitable man.  I don't know how to most appropriately honor him.  The greatest thing I have from him is his last name, and all that that means; faith, service, hard work, honesty, duty, kindness, and humility.  I'd like to live my life so that Grandpa can be pleased with what I've done with his name.