I've thought a lot in the past few weeks about how blessed I am. I have the best family in the world and I realized that once again while I was at my Grandpa's funeral. All of my brothers and sisters were there (except Maria who is on a mission) and it made me think back to how great my childhood was growing up. Then I thought about how close we all still are. Even though we live in different houses, cities, counties or states I still love talking with and confiding in my brothers and sisters. I love how close we all still are and I realized that I depend on them a lot...my favorite times
in the world are when we are all together.
None of this would be possible with my amazing parents who taught us in a gospel-centered home. My parents have always been and still are so involved in our lives and I love it! I think the older I get the more and more I appreciate them and all the sacrifices they have made for us. They went without of material possessions a lot of the time so us children could have more opportunities in life. I honestly couldn't have asked for better parents who taught me right and have been my biggest support system.
And of course I have been blessed with incredible grandparents on both sides of the family. I don't remember a lot about my Grandpa Falslev since he passed away in a farming accident at an early age...but I do remember he and my Grandma serving a mission and living the gospel to the fullest. I can't wait to get to know him better on the other side.
I was blessed to grow up next door to Grandpa Israelsen though. He is one of the purest examples of living the gospel and enduring to the end. Growing up on the farm, I will always remember him milking the cows, driving the tractor, cutting hay, irrigating, building fence, gathering eggs and everything else in between. I remember Grandpa bearing his testimony a lot and almost every Sunday night you could walk past his house and know that he was giving someone their patriarchal blessing. He gave me mine. I also remember the first time I ever saw him cry was when he was giving the family prayer at Justin's funeral. He knew what was ahead of me cause he had lived it. And he was always there for me to confide in and give advice. I am so happy for him to be with his family that he has lived apart from for decades again. If I can be half the person the Grandpa was, I will be set.
He has changed my life.
I am grateful for funerals to remind me how blessed I am, but also to remind me of what I need to work on. What would we do
without the gospel and families?
