The second song I added is called "You Are a Legacy", and is one I wrote about my dad shortly after he passed away. The recording is extremely quiet, so if you'd like to listen, be sure to turn up the volume!
The legacy he left behind is far reaching and not always readily seen. He was known for his contagious smile and witty sense of humor. Not as well known was his way of helping others without calling attention to himself. In fact, many of us who knew him best were surprised at the stories about his acts of kindness that surfaced shortly after his death. He truly made a difference in our lives, and we are all better for having known him.
Of course, this would all be incomplete without being able to be with him again. In his younger years, he had occasion to work with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland in the rural town of St. George, Utah. My dad was saving to go on a mission, and young Jeffrey was at an impressionable age of about 14 years old. My dad, known as "Mert" to his young colleague, encouraged him to prepare for a mission. Some letters were even exchanged from the mission field. Seeds of friendship were planted those many years ago, and have stayed alive in the heart of Elder Holland. He came and spoke at my dad's funeral, and his message was one of hope, not tragedy. He asked us to take a moment and consider how little we are allowed to take on to the next life.
"As I understand it," he said, "you can take three things: you can take your character - what you are, what you became, what you stood for, what you believe, the way you act, the way you lived. You can take your character, you can take the ordinances of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and because of one of those ordinances, you can take your family. And that's it."
Before continuing I want to say that Elder Holland was exactly right. If these are the only things we can take with us, then shouldn't they be among the top of our priorities? Still, it is so easy to get caught up "in the thick of thin things", as President Monson put it. Elder Holland continued:
"...maybe that’s why funerals are among the best meetings that we have in the Church, because we have long, long deep thoughts about what life’s all about, and what it’s not about, and what our purposes ought to be, and what they ought not to be. And it seems to me that as in so many other ways, as in all the other ways of his life, Mervyn understood that, and knew exactly, knew exactly, what he could take with him when he left this world, and none of us ever knowing when that will be. A funeral is a great moment to take stock, to pause and to reflect, and in our own way say 'am I ready to go? Have I done what I needed to do? Have I given what I needed to give? Have I learned what I needed to learn? Have I acted the way I should have acted? Did I speak the way I should have spoken?' If we were called on as surprisingly as Mert was called on to go, would we be as ready as he has been to stand for the goodness of his life and those very very few essentials that we’re allowed to carry out of this world. We spend so much time on things that we cannot take. Some appropriate amount of time needs to be spent on the thing that we can, and what a tribute it’s been to see that family before us here today. Of course what they realize is what you and I realize, and that is that Mert’s got his character, and he’s taking that, we’ve heard of that today. He’s fulfilled and pursued and embraced all the saving ordinances of the gospel, he has checked all of that off beautifully on his to-do list (his famous planner and note-taking ability). But for all of us, the jury is still out when it comes down to the family, when it comes down to the rest of us. Will we be with him? He’s anxious about that for us, and only I can take care of my life in a way that says that I’d have the chance to be with Mervyn Cox again. And each of his children, and each of his grandchildren, and each of his extended family, and all of his friends. That part, the real tribute to Mervyn Cox, is still in our hands. It will not end with this service. It isn’t over when we sing the closing hymn or have the closing prayer. The real tribute to Mervyn Cox will walk out of this building when we walk out in the way that we now continue to live and proceed to live and try to live and pledge to live in order that all those wishes of his heart, and all those choicest possessions of his life, might still be his in time and eternity – first and foremost his family, but I think he would like to say that that would include all of us. That heaven might not be heaven for Mert Cox unless we could be there with him, and that’s been an inspiration to me.
"Lastly, I bear my witness – I am a witness. I’ve borne witness all of my life that I am a witness, and will be until I can no longer gasp or utter another word or say another sentence. I leave my witness with this family, with Sue and all of her children and grandchildren, for special peace in the days ahead that Jesus is the Christ, that Mervyn knew that and loved it and lived it, and that’s why this is not a tragedy. That’s why what tears we feel here are tears of memory, they’re tears of nostalgia, they’re tears of how much fun we had and how much we loved him, and what life we lived with him, but they’re not tears of tragedy. There’s no tragedy here this morning, because Mervyn Cox still lives, and he lives because Jesus is the Christ, the living Son of the living God, and so will we. And that’s why how we live now matters so much regarding how we will live then – the quality of life that we will have then. Martha ran out of her home and went up the street out of Bethany to meet Jesus on His way down a dusty path, and I think with a little bit of irritation in her voice said “if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.” She could be a little serious in her life. Jesus must have smiled and said that “your brother shall rise again.” And she said “I know he shall rise again in the resurrection.” And I think just to make sure that she understood, and that the record was straight, He must have lovingly taken her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes and said “I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he should die, yet shall he live. And he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
I have a long way to go before I will have done what I need to do and become what I need to become, but one of the single most important assurances I have is that I don't have to go at it alone. The Savior tread the unbearable path alone so that we would not have to. Even on an ordinary day I can feel His love through the kind words of a friend, the counsel from my mother, or the support from my brothers and sisters. Among the greatest gifts He has given us is each other, and the opportunity to make families last forever.
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