More Dreams

Hey Ben,

I’ve been thinking about you since I sent my note yesterday. I want you to know that I have faith and I know things will be okay. I had more dreams last night. Kinda scary, but I’ve been praying about them and think I’ve figured them out. In the first, I was looking at a jumbo jet (it was on the ground, not flying) with three engines, they were just idling when suddenly a flame flashed through them. I shook myself out of that one. The second was a fighter jet flying just above me, straight an true, I liked that one. The last on was something hitting a mountain and exploding, maybe a meteor or artillery, it was violent, but it didn’t do much to the hillside. I think the first and the last we’re the pain or worry you three boys might feel because of the situation (the three jet engines). I think the hillside was your mom getting the news, who is immovable no matter what comes. I think the plane was comfort, that life will continue straight and true.

I hope not to overburden you with this, and my goal is to find hope in any situation.

I listened to the Elder Holland Talk you mentioned. Your mom and I notice that you have a consistent type of talks you like, direct and forceful, like you. Aunt Patti also suggested som talks, I think you’ll appreciate those too. Look up Be not troubled by Elder Rasband and The ministry of angels by Elder Holland. 

Well, mom’s fixing dinner, the house smells so good, like green chilies. She’s making us smothered chili verde burritos. I can’t wait.

Love you kid, think of you always. Pops.

P.s. in my current state of emotions, I found this picture of my dad. I posted it to Facebook. 

This is my Pops. I think this photo was taken in the 70s or 80s, probably in his office in the Park building on Presidents Circle on the University of Utah campus. I remember walking in there with my friend Randy Fox when we were sweating little boys raising heck on campus on our BMX bikes. If he was on a call, dictating letters, or even in a meeting we’d march right in and without missing a beat he’d hand us a cold soda out of a fridge or a handful of quarters for the vending machines in the basement.

Now that I’m older people tell me I’m like him. That’s the greatest compliment I can be given, but it always makes me uncomfortable. To me, my dad was a giant. He was the smartest person I ever knew. He had an edge but he always demonstrated love. He seemed fearless. I got my sense of adventure from him (he always said it wasn’t four-wheeling unless you got stuck). 

Love you pops, I wish I could have just 5 minutes with you right now. Let’s go fishing, okay!