George Clawson, My Grampa

My mom’s dad, Grampa Clawson passed away yesterday morning. I cried for a minute after Mom called to tell me, but as I began to imagine the joy he must feel to be able to embark on the next chapter of his work, my tears stopped, and I smiled for him. I have a grandchild’s small glimpse of a great man’s life, but to me, Grampa was a living testimony that the gospel is true and from what I saw, I know he used his life to serve the Lord and to do His work, and he rejoiced in it. He loved genealogy and could tell story after story of our family’s forebears. He understood and lived the scriptures, and delighted in discussing them. During a sacrament meeting when I was 11, I decided to pull out my Joseph Smith History and read it rather than listen to the speaker. I didn’t know that Grampa was reading along with me until later that day, when he asked me if I remembered what I had been reading in church. I answered that it was Joseph Smith’s first vision, and a talk followed that brought that story and the reality of it more alive than anything I’ve heard or seen since. He used simple words, but I felt the burning of his testimony, and I continued to feel that warmth emanating from him from then on. I saw him last in April, and will never forget the sound of his voice as he prayed aloud, asking God to bless his family, thanking him for our lives and liberty, and expressing his love to Heavenly Father. I'm gonna miss his hands, his voice, and his smiling face coming at mine with puckered up lips. I’m looking forward to seeing my family this weekend and hearing more stories about him from Grandma, Mom, and my aunts and uncles. I’m glad George Clawson was who he was and that I got to have him for my grampa.

I love you, Grampa. See you later.