My Dad's Passing

In his favorite horse pasture on July 22, 1990 (for the record)

DON WROTE:
Although I was not present in that horse pasture I certainly well remember that Sunday morning when Roland Eastman was late for church. Little did I know that he probably had made a quick appearance before going back to wait for Allen just so that nobody could accuse him of being late after all the speeches he had given on the virtues of being on time. When I drive by that pasture I still think of Roland and the events of that Sabbath morning. By the way, one person that you forgot to mention who was also laid to rest in the Rosemary cemetery who I am sure you are extremely close to is your nephew Troy. When I have what it takes I might share with you the role I played in that special event but could only do so at the OK of my special friends, Sandy and Al. I was the bishop of the Rosemary ward at that time.
GERALD LEE WROTE:I don't know if any of you know the 'rest of the story' about the passing of my Dad. He always made the last set of water (much needed thirsty land water of Rosemary-----the very 'lifeblood of it's existence'------ on his favorite horse pasture just to the south of our house within view of my Mother's favorite kitchen windows. Well, he never, never, never, would be late for church on a Sunday morning. He would always tell us kids, "if your gonna be late, you might as well not even go-----" and I hear myself saying the same words to this very day telling my grandchildren and my wife the very same thing------but I also go around and around and around in every room of the house saying----"10 minutes to leave---",----- "five minutes to departure-----",----- YOU'VE NOT GOT 2 MINUTES UNTIL I AM LEAVING ! ! ! ! -----" (just for full effect and I see my dad smiling all the time I am prowling the house)

Anyway, he went out this Sunday morning early to make the last set for the long easy drop down the pasture lazily around the little knolls, wherever the water wanted to go all the way along the 160 acre back fenced pasture he would leave open to run until Church was over ! ! ! Well Mother got very worried when it was time he was home pulling off his 'ugly gum' boots and getting ready for Church or they would be late for sure. Then she was over wrought when it was past time and he still did not show and she could see his truck parked down across from the spill head gate next to the pasture and no Dad.

She had a strange feeling something was wrong so she called over to Allen's across the road and told him her fears and asked if he would go down the road and see if Dad was okay. She had nightmares when that spill gate was backed up so high of someone falling in and drowning by hitting their head or something and this day was a bad premonition for her.

Allen went down and when he walked up to the closed wire fence gate, as Dad would either just push down the wire to step over or climb through the wire, or if the horses were near, he would go through the gate then close it behind him. He then saw my Dad laying out in the pasture just a bit from the irrigation ditch with one arm over his eyes. Allen thought he must have just gone to sleep out here in the nice warm sun on such a beautiful, peaceful Sunday morning, maybe waiting for the water to come around in the ditch. He often laid down on the kitchen floor for a 10 minute nap most lunch hours when we would come in for (dinner----we called it in those days) before he would get up and rush us all back out to work. He would put his arm over his eyes to darken the light of the day I guess and off to sleep in 2 minutes and start to snore, just like that.

So Allen was not too concerned but called out Dad's name a couple times as he approached to make sure he didn't startle Dad. Startling a 250 pound snoring man in the middle of a nap is not a 'good thing' to do ! ! ! But he began to feel a foreboding when Dad did not respond. He knelt down beside him and removed his arm to see a smile on his face. A few moments later he knew my Dad had passed away. Allen then says he immediately thought of 'mouth to mouth' resuscitation but as he bent forward he said seeing the smile on my Dad's face he did not even dare to bring him back as he surely went peaceful and would probably be very upset if Allen tried to bring him back ! ! !

Well I don't know if Sandy got a premonition as well and came down the road or if Mom called her after Allen didn't come right back with Dad, but anyway, Sandy comes down and sees Allen holding my Dad in his arms and crying and immediately knew the situation. When she came up to Dad she instantly noticed he had his gum boots on and one thing 'Rancher Dad' always told us for sure------he never wanted to die with gum boots on------so she told Allen she was going to go home and get his cowboy boots and put them on him before the ambulance from Brooks would come for him. She went home, told mom the situation, call the ambulance then took Dad's cowboy boots back to the horse pasture. She knew Allen was just not in any shape at all to react in such a thinking manner at this moment in time.

Well, when she pulled off Dad's gum boots she had the laugh of her life even in this desperate, desperate moment. She saw he had one red sock and one white sock on. Now if any of you happened to have parents who experienced the 'Great Depression' you will know they 'saved everything'. Someday you would have a need for everything you saved. Invariably one sock would wear out before the other one so Dad always just threw the good sock in a 'catch all drawer' and for gum boots activity, would just put on mismatched socks since there was absolutely 'no dignity' in wearing gum boots anyway ! ! !

Well, knowing Sandy and what a good sport she is, she told Allen this would not do so she ran home again and got a matched pair of sock, came back, put on the matched socks then his cowboy boots. Good for you Sandy------not there's a 'heads up girl' ! ! ! She said later if you ever want an experience, try putting on a pair of socks on a big dead man's feet, but even more interesting is trying to put his cowboy boots on he himself would have to pull and push and grunt and groan and stamp, then pull some more from both loops on the sides of the boots to get them to come on.

Of course all us cowboys think our feet boot size is always 2 sizes smaller than our feet and invariably try to fit into size 10's from our ego memories of our mid twenties when our old feet are a size 12 by the time we are 65. Wow, how she got them on I will never know but I am sure my Dad was standing there laughing his head off seeing and feeling what Sandy was trying to do for him in that old horse pasture on an early, quiet, blue sky Sunday Morning when my Dad passed on to the other side.

And what a way to go. Allen said later he could see on the ditch bank where my Dad tried to set his plastic dam (used to be canvas in the real old days), he always pounded a small post in the middle of the ditch to guarantee the heavy water would not push the dam out of place when it came rushing down the ditch, then it looked like he must have felt something wrong in his chest as there was a long boot mark from the top of the bank down the inside of the wet bank on one side where he slipped on the wet ditch bank trying to get out. He then must have thought if he just laid down a few feet from the bank a moment, he would be okay, but as he began to slip away he must have felt like he would just take a small nap, then smiled probably seeing his Mother and Dad whom he loved with all his heart or 2 of his sisters who had gone before, who had come to bring him home.

You know, I only saw my Dad cry once in his whole life-----or in my whole life as later in his life I was not home much------but it was at his Father's funeral and as a young lad of twelve I was really amazed. I had never guessed to that day my Dad could show his emotions-----as you all know those old people of that generation were just tough as nails in any situation, but on that day he cried and I was amazed.

PS, when he became the Bishop leader of the Rosemary LDS Ward I heard him say he thought of saying in his very first comments in his new position from the podium, that if the members were going to straggle in 3 or 5 or 10 minutes late to the meeting with him as Bishop, he would impress upon them the importance of being on time by chaining the Church doors at 5 minutes to the hour and they would miss the Supper of the Bridegroom like the 5 Unwise Virgins did in the scriptures. But my Dad was a lot of bluff and really a softy at heart so he didn't really do it but he said some other things that got most of them to start coming on time during his tenure.

PPS---- The Mormon Church in Rosemary has been meeting at 10am since the first meetings in the thirties (the 'dawn of time') and that was 7,867 years ago, I think. I have attended about 100 different Mormon Chapel meeting places in my wanderings days meeting at all different times of the Sunday, but not Rosemary-------and that is one of the reasons I remember and tell many people that good old Rosemary is a very special place to this day.

It also has a grave yard with my own special people there, my Mother, my Father, my great Second Aunt, Grandma Parker, my amazing and wonderful Aunt Lorraine Eastman Norton (whom I named one of my twin Daughters after, Michelle "Lorraine" Eastman Neilson), my great Uncle Jean Norton, my equally great Aunt and Uncle George and Ula Hornberger, my nephew. Troy Eastman, who died way too young and was the yougest of our family to go, my good friend Calvin Crapo and my amazing young and wonderful friend, Larry Payne. I stopped at all their graves last time I was in Rosemary at your wonderful Rosemary July First Celebration but spent quite a bit of time at Larry's grave site telling him it would only be a few more days until I would see him again ! ! ! ! ------you Rosemary Rccer's all do know it is 'our generation next to go don't you???'-------And I love to express my feelings just like John the Revelator did in his great last vision when he had seen all the grave turmoil and incredible disasters of the world at the 'end', he made an amazing statement in the second last verse of the New Testament------"Even so, Come Lord Jesus" ! ! ! ! AMEN ! ! !
TRUDY WRITES:
That was a wonderful account, Gerald Lee, and a well-said added comment by you, Don.

The Good Book says: To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven... and you have shown us the brighter side of dying. What a gift to be able to pass on, in a sunny horse pasture on a Sabbath morn, with a smile upon one's face. A heartening gift for both the passer and the attendants and long time friends. I am grateful to be able to read this story and of Allen and Sandy's efforts to comfort a fallen cowboy with the things they knew were dear to him because they knew him well.

A couple of other young people that I neglected to mention who passed in their youth,( and there are likely others that come to mind for others) is Kevin Sorenson - Lyla Dee, Kayneta and Novavee's brother - who left our company in 1982. I think of him always when we pass on the road to the Community pastures as well as Richard Hall, who passed on a few years ago after singing "Going Home" at someone else's memorial service. And more recently, Colton Nickel, son of "Ben" Nickel and nephew of Alvin and Verna, who some of us went to school with.
What comes to mind is how we have been allowed to live to see middle and old age and so to share our experiences a little longer!

An observation - nothing needs to be or remain "ugly" ! Here are some samples of modern day ladies' gum boots. I don't know how many have been designed for men, but I know one can buy camouflage colored ones now as well as the traditional black and red ones.
The gum boots we wore on the farm, after buying them at Wittig's Store, were invaluable and very memorable. Flooding with water and making a squishing sound as we walked so we filled them with dry grass which felt,, oh so nice! Rubbing against our bare legs and creating tell tale tattoos around the girls' calves which showed through our nylons at church!
And the boot fights in the basement cloak room of the red elementary school. Phenomenal! And afterwards, trying to match up our own pair again! My sister was once obligated to come home with one way too large boot and a smaller boot, because that was all that was left when she went to dress for the bus! Boots sticking in the mud while walking to the bus or coming right off just as we stepped from the sticky clay of the ungravelled road onto the step well. Now what??? Nothing to do but to step into the mud with a socked foot and carry it on. You bet the boots were an ugly affair, but we couldn't have lived without them.
But I remember the too tight cowboy boots as well, more resistant to the puncture of a nail left in the wood pile of old barn wood than the rubber boots, I know at least one rodeo rider who had to cut slits and holes into his to accommodate previously broken toes and arches.

Wearing mismatched socks is ,to me, a great thrifty practice and in my children's youth somewhere, it was actually a "style" to wear two different colors at once! Probably a form of mild rebellion. And long johns - loathed and loved at once - but so necessary in our prairie cold were often what was worn with hastily donned gum boots to beat it to the biffy - prairie style!

Keep warm and keep your flaps buttoned! Winter is still with us and I think I saw a robin with red long johns on! Oh veh!
Trudy