till we meet again, my dear grandpa brenchley

It has been a heartbreaking week for my family. Just 3 weeks ago we learned that my Grandpa Brenchley had pancreatic cancer and was really not doing well. In those 3 weeks his health declined fast. I was able to fly home the week we found out so I could see him once more.  It seemed unreal because in our eyes Grandpa was invincible. He is the toughest man we know. On Wednesday May 2nd he passed away.

We are going to miss him terribly. He is the coolest grandpa. I have always been so proud to be Arlyn Brenchley's granddaughter. He was a farmer, a soldier, a fireman, a missionary, a worthy priesthood holder, a faithful father, grandpa and so much more.

I have always loved going to Wellsville to visit Grandma and Grandpa Brenchley. There is this feeling of peace that I have always felt driving into Cache Valley and I think a big part of that was knowing that Grandpa was there. I loved pulling into the drive way to find him in his lawn chair, wearing a cowboy hat, reading a western novel, with one hand on his dog always. I loved visiting the farm with him and watching the animals follow his every command. I loved that we both have a love for salting all of our food, and dinners together often meant a battle for the salt shaker. I will miss seeing his big sun tanned, calloused hands which were proof of his life of hard work. While I was at USU, I loved going to grandma and Grandpas for a nap, to do my laundry, and to talk and have dinner with Granda and Grandpa. Those Sundays I had alone with them are some of my most treasured memories. I will miss calling Grandma and hearing Grandpa on the other line listening. I will miss watching western movies with him. I will miss his sarcastic personality and loving demeanor. Grandpa had a very strong testimony and love for the gospel, he wasn't one to speak about his feelings, but you knew that he knew it because of how faithfully he lived it. Before I left for my mission I was having dinner with Grandma and Grandpa Brenchley and we were talking about me being a missionary, I don't remember how it came up, but I so clearly remember him looking at me and telling me that he knew for sure that the church and the Book of Mormon was true. There were several times as a missionary when people were tearing us down and or when my faith was being tested that I thought of that conversation I had with my grandpa, and my faith was strengthened because I knew that he knew it and he could not be wrong. 

When I returned from my mission, Grandma and Grandpa drove down for my homecoming talk and when I first saw him he didn't say anything to me, and he had tears in his eyes. It was the best feeling, he didn't say it but I knew that he was proud of me, and that was something special. I hope that I can live a life where he can always be proud of me. 

Miles and I flew home this weekend for the funeral. It was sad and beautiful at the same time. It seemed like everyone in Wellsville was there to honor my grandpa. He was loved by everyone. 

Endings are hard, but my testimony has been strengthened this week that death is not the end. I believe that God has a plan of salvation and that it is real. Thanks to our Savior and the covenants made in the temple, my Grandma and Grandpa will be reunited, and we will all be together as a family again someday. 

Until then, we will miss you Grandpa!