It's hard not to be SAD

Last night I was at a meeting at our local church house, laughing about our financial situation along with a dozen others, trying to learn from a self-professed cheapskate, when one of the attendees received a text message from his wife, telling us of the passing of our beloved leader President Hinckley. Most of the folks who read my blog are LDS so I know you are feeling similar thoughts. Even though he was old, and dearly missed his wife and is having a grand reunion with her, it would've been nice to keep him around for a few more years. It's amazing how one person could touch so many lives. He was the perfect man to lead our church into the 21st century. He could put anyone at ease. These are some things I'll miss about him: His voice--anytime he spoke he started with a chuckle and ended with a crack of emotion. His smile. His sense of humor. He sure got a lot of mileage out of that cane of his, from the knighting of Henry Eyring, to leading the choir, to waving good-bye. I'll miss his obvious love for people from all walks of life. Those who lived in Utah who aren't members of our faith have noticed that things have been kinder and more respectful under his leadership. He asked that we look at what we have in common with those of other faiths, rather than our differences. I loved that about the man. He was intelligent, and kept up with the world events. He wasn't an old fool who didn't keep in touch. I loved that he believed in the goodness of people and the world around him. I loved that he traveled all over the world to brighten the lives of others and share his testimony and optimism. I loved that he loved his wife, Marjorie--and how he encouraged her to fly. I loved that he was so open to the media and granted high-profile interviews. I loved that he wasn't afraid to bring the world to Utah for the Olympics. I love that he deserved and received the love and respect of people from all over the world and yet remained a humble man. I loved that he made me feel happy about the gospel. He's leaving some mighty big shoes for Thomas Monson to fill.