When we heard that Ann passed away we were sad but grateful. Her latest cancer of her brain quickly changed her personality and she wasn't able to do most of the things she always did. I can't remember when the diagnosis was, I think around September 2020. She wasn't walking straight, she was always dizzy, had vision problems, and would say odd things. It quickly progressed to changing her personality-instead of the quiet and go with the flow Ann, she became very outspoken and mean. But she couldn't help it! Its hard to say how much of that was the tumor and how much were the medications to blame.
At the end of October Ann went to stay in Cary with her sister Carolyn for about a week. Ann needed around the clock help just to get up to go to the bathroom, she was too unstable on her feet. It became too much for Carolyn so in anticipation of her coming back to Twin Falls to live on her own, Donna and us girls (Stephanie, Bonnie, myself and Cora) went to Ann's house to do a deep clean of her front room so she could access things more readily without help. Her home teacher also built her a ramp before she got home. I don't remember if she spent a day in the house or not but she took a turn for the worse and was in the hospital. Ann's needs were just too much for any one person to do alone, she needed 24 hour care from nurses. She was at the hospital for a bit before she was moved to a care facility. Because of COVID nobody could visit her, they had to talk on the phone through the window of her room (Ann would hold the tv remote up on top of her head to talk on the phone). It was sad and very, very lonely for her. Two weeks before she passed, she told Donna she was ready to die. Being that isolated is no way for anybody to live.
I tried to think of every logical way to go to the funeral. I could drive down with the kids, I could find a babysitter so that Lance and I could go together, we thought of flying some family member up here to be with the kids so Lance and I could go. Nothing stood out to me and I just didn't have a good feeling about going. I REALLY wanted to go but the spirit was telling me no. I'm glad I didn't because Lance drove the casket down to TF so it would've been me and the kids alone. Christmas night we got about 3" of snow and the day Lance drove back home we got another 6" of snow. I'm glad I didn't go for that reason alone, the road were awful. But the kids had fun playing in the snow, especially Cora. She really loves the snow.
I won't put the musical number recordings on here but Lance, Kempton, and Jerusha did an amazing job at Ann's funeral. And John's talk was wonderful as well, here is a copy of it.
Good morning---I give thanks to Ann's family for this opportunity, and I'm humbled by it. I'm sure I speak for the family when I share gratitude for your attendance---I know there are many here who were taught by Ann in Primary---also coworkers, the Carey class of '75, and temple worker friends. A special thank you to Glen Leavitt and his family for their years of service for Ann.
I've attended many funeral services in my life, and I'm always impressed by the way that families come closer to together in a deeper way than in the routine, everyday life.
Also, there is almost always a great deal of talk about the next life, reunions with loved ones, and resurrection. Some have concerns about the reality of this, and it's with you that I would like to share today.
It wasn't really a very long time ago, that Stewart and Beth held a new baby girl in their arms. They very likely had a moment of complete awe at what they were experiencing---something that's likely happened to most of us at sometime, when looking at a newborn. "Who is this person?" "She wasn't here yesterday, and yet she is here today." "How can this be---this is a miracle."
Now we say, "She was here yesterday, and now she isn't---Where is she now?"
My father was a private person, and we never spoke of spiritual things---that is, until a short discussion when my father knew that he had few days remaining of his mortal life. I wouldn't say that my Dad was an atheist, but he was a skeptic. He said, "I wonder what this was all for?" That's a fair question---it's a fundamental question. I told him that when the time was right, he would leave this body behind and he would soon be with loved ones again---including his mother who died when he was five. He said, "Do you believe that?" And I said, "Yes Dad, I do." He said, "I hope you're right."
My Mother told me that Dad felt that all this talk about the next life, and resurrections and stuff like that was just an emotional crutch based on wishful thinking. That's not an uncommon world view.
Sometimes I wonder if we aren't missing what has been in front of our faces for our whole lives.
Recently Elder Lawrence Corbridge spoke to a mostly LDS audience about belief, and I will close by reading a portion of his remarks, which I think are profound:
Finally, believe. Believe "with God all things are possible." We may all be taken back from time to time by the extraordinary - such as walking on water, multiplying bread and fish, raising the dead, translating gold plates with special lenses, and the visitation of angels. Some people are hard-pressed to believe extraordinary things. Which it is understandable that we may be challenged by the extraordinary, we should be, because ordinary things are actually far more phenomenal.
The most phenomenal occurrences of all time and eternity - the most amazing wonders, the most astounding, awesome developments - are the most common and widely recognized. They include I am; you are; we are; and all that we perceive exists as well, from subatomic particles to the farthest reaches of the cosmos and everything in between, including all of the wonders of life. Is there anything greater than those ordinary realities? No. Nothing else even comes close. You can't begin to imagine, much less describe, anything great than what already is.
In light of what is, nothing else should surprise us. It should be easy to believe that with God all things are possible.
The healing of the withered hand is not nearly as amazing as the existence of the hand in the first place. If it exists, it follows that it can certainly be fixed when it is broken. The greater event is not in its healing but in its creation.
More phenomenal than resurrection is birth. The greater wonder is not that life, having once existed, could come again but that it ever exists at all.
More amazing than raising the dead is that we live at all. A silent heart that beats again is not nearly as amazing as the heart that beats within your breast right now.
The wonder is not what the human eye may see, rather, that it sees anything at all.
How can you believe in extraordinary things such as angels and your divine potential? Easy, just look around and believe.
I don't know if pigs will ever sprout wings and fly, but if they do, flying pigs will never be nearly as amazing as the ordinary pig in the first place.
Thank you again to Ann's family. I wouldn't be surprised if Ann has already heard or felt the words, "Well done thou good and faithful servant---enter in to the Joy of thy Lord."
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