Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Funeral Program Outline

In Loving Memory of Kirk Chadwick




August 9, 1959 to June 12, 2019


Services


June 15, 2019 at 1 p.m.
Ririe Stake Center
Bishop Fred Thacker (officiating)


Floral Bearers
Heather Good, Sarah Good, Amber Good, Rachel Saville, Evelyn England,
and Abigail England (The granddaughters)


Pallbearers
McCallan Chadwick, Ethan Chadwick, Pete Flynn, Thomas Good, Brian Saville,
David England


Honorary Pallbearers
Jackson Flynn, Wyatt Flynn, Matthew Good, Michael Saville, Henry Flynn,
Aaron England, Elijah England, Gabriel Saville (The grandsons)


Military Rites
United States Navy Honor Guard and Jefferson County Veterans Team
Taps by David England


Family Prayer: McCallan Chadwick


Prelude & Postlude Music: Mary Young (A family friend)
Chorister: Trina Maras (My Mom's sister)


Opening Hymn: #97 Lead, Kindly Light
Opening Prayer: Stanley Linville (Mom's dad, my grandpa)


Life Sketch: Emily Flynn


Musical Number: “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief”
Flute and Piano Duet by Chelsea Good and Devri Saville


Speaker: McCallan Chadwick


Musical Number: I am a Child of God
By Kirk & Leta’s Grandchildren, accompanied by Taryn England


Speaker: Devri Saville


Musical Number: “If You Could Hie to Kolob”
Piano Solo by Taryn England


Closing Remarks: Fred Thacker, Bishop


Closing Hymn: #136 I Know that My Redeemer Lives
Closing Prayer: Brian Saville


Interment at the Ririe Shelton Cemetery 

Dedicatory Prayer: Ethan Chadwick


At the visitation, we had a bowl of fruit snacks for everyone. My dad always had fruit snacks to give to the kids. In the middle of the service, someone passed out fruit snacks to all the grandkids. This meant that when they all got up to sing "I am a Child of God," their little mouths were full of fruit snacks. I can see Dad laughing at this, and I can hear his chuckle mixed in with their singing. It was the most serendipitous thing in the entire service.

Hope in the Resurrection of Christ

This is the talk I gave at Dad's funeral. I generally don't write out my talks; instead, I use outlines. But, since I didn't trust myself to not have a script, and because I thought it might be helpful to have the actual words I shared available later, I wrote out my whole talk. It didn't come together until the morning of the funeral, and I had to shut myself up in my mom's office to finish it. I barely got it printed in time to head to the church. Chelsea and I needed to run through "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" before the visitation started. Thankfully, it all came together okay. (Somebody said that it was as good as talks they'd heard a Bishop give, which I thought was a strange compliment). Please ignore the formatting issues and typos. I didn't have time to fix them, and I don't have the heart to read through it and fix it now.






On Wednesday evening, and Brian and I made the long journey from our home in Saratoga Springs to be here with my mom and family, and I had a lot of quiet time to reflect on my dad’s life. The only things that came to my mind about him and his life were good things, and as the messages started pouring in from the people that knew him, there was a common thread. Our friends talked about how kind my dad was. They talked about how he always had a smile for them, how he always cheered them on. Some of the people who commented or reached out to me surprised me, but the theme was the same: they talked of his kindness, his big heart. I found my mind drifting to something we’d read recently in the “Come Follow Me” manual in connection with the parable of the Sheep and the Goats. Essentially, it posed the question, “Do you ever wonder how you will be judged?”

Matthew 25:33
33 And he shall set the sheep on his aright hand, but the goats on the left.
34 Then shall the King say unto them on his aright hand, Come, ye bblessed of my
Father, cinherit the dkingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
35 For I was an ahungred, and ye bgave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink:
I was a cstranger, and ye took me in:
36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye avisited me: I was in bprison, and ye
came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred,
and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee asick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch
as ye have adone it unto one of the bleast of these my cbrethren, ye have done it
unto me.

My heart takes great comfort in knowing that my dad spent his life looking out for those around him. His heart was full of love for his fellow men, and he did whatever he could for those around him. He lifted, loved, inspired, and blessed all those who came in contact with him. He had many imperfections, as we all know, but his heart and his desires were always perfect. He simply wanted to be a good son to His Father in Heaven.

He spent his entire life giving of himself. He began by looking out for his younger siblings, then his wife and children, then his grandchildren. He often gave up on the things that he really wanted so that we could have the things we needed and wanted. He always wanted us to have more than he had, and our successes in life became his.

His dream and my mom’s was to have a house with enough space for all of us kids. They talked and talked for years about how they would do it, and as most of you know, that dream became a reality this last year. It took a lot of work, and a lot more patience, but they finally saw their dream home come together, with plenty of space for all his beloved grandkids to come and visit him. I feel like our Savior, who knew so well his heart, waited until this final act of providing for his family was complete before He took my dad home to His rest, knowing that despite my dad’s pain, he could never part from his wife without leaving her with that home they dreamed up together. 

I love the words of Alma to his son, Coriantumr,

Alma 40: 11 Now, concerning the astate of the soul between bdeath and the
resurrection—Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the
spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the
spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are ctaken dhome to that God
who gave them life.
12 And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are
received into a state of ahappiness, which is called bparadise, a state of rest, a state
of cpeace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.
14...Thus they remain in this estate... until the time of their resurrection.

Elder Jospeh B. Wirthlin said, “When Christ rose from the grave, becoming the firstfruits of the Resurrection, He made that gift available to all. And with that sublime act, He softened the devastating, consuming sorrow that gnaws at the souls of those who have lost precious loved ones.

President Spencer W. Kimball said, “I am sure that if we can imagine ourselves at our very best, physically, mentally, spiritually, that is the way we will come back.”3

Elder Wirthlin also said, “When we are resurrected, “this mortal body is raised to an immortal body.… [We] can die no more.”4 Can you imagine that? Life at our prime? Never sick, never in pain, never burdened by the ills that so often beset us in mortality?”

Since Wednesday when Dad went home to His Father, our world has been turbulent and so, so sad. We’ve shed more tears than we ever thought were possible. But through our tears, we find hope in the Resurrection of the Savior. We know that one day, we will see our dad again. My mom will be reunited with her sweetheart. His grandkids will run to him and embrace him again, and he’ll probably figure out a way to give them some kind of sweet.

In the meantime, we take great comfort in knowing that our dad, who was in constant pain from his arthritis and the illnesses that he so easily caught and wrestled with will not plague him again. Now he’ll be able to be with us like he never has been able to before. He’ll be to all his grandkids’ concerts, plays, sports events, recitals, graduations, weddings. We are sad for us, but not for him. He is in Paradise. He is home. And I have no doubt that when he passed through the other side of the veil, he heard the words from His Father, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”

When we see him again, I don’t know all the things that we will do, but I imagine that there will be a baseball game in the yard. He’ll run around those bases and steal home base, sliding into one of my brothers, laughing as he gets to the plate before they can tag him, and we’ll all yell, “Safe!”

My dad taught me to love my Savior, and I leave you with my witness that Jesus Lives, and because Jesus lives, I know that my dad--and all of us--will live again too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

A Few Memories of My Dad

I knew that I was going to speak at my dad's funeral, but I didn't know what talk I was going to give. So, I wrote the Life Sketch, and I started writing down memories, as if I would share them at his funeral. These are the memories that I wrote down in the event I gave the "Fun Memories" talk. I didn't give the Life Sketch (Emily did), and I didn't give the Memories talk (Cal did), but since I already posted the Life Sketch (of which I wrote the first draft), I thought I'd include my memories "talk" anyway. Here it is:

Back in high school, I ran cross-country and distance track. My brothers would have me rephrase that to “I moved my legs faster than my normal walk as I traveled around a designated race route”. My parents would come to as many meets as they could to cheer my pathetic running attempts. During track meets, I’d nervously approach the starting line, watch the starting gun, and begin the 4 or 8 laps around the track. About the time I made it to the 50 yard line, about 150 meters into my race, I would hear my dad’s voice cheering me from the in-field. Then, as I made my way over to the other 50 yard line, about 350 meters in, I’d here his voice cheering me again from the infield. He would walk that 50 yard line back and forth to cheer for me during my 1600 meter or 3200 meter race. The first time he did it, he took me by surprise. The first cheer made me so happy, but when I realized he was pacing the field for me, I was surprised and a little overwhelmed. I was never good at running, and his cheers helped me finish each difficult race.

Of course, his enthusiasm for all my activities, while always as supportive as my pathetic running career, wasn’t always that enthusiastic. He tolerated my piano recitals--I like to think he enjoyed them more in the later years, band concerts, and even my plays. I remember asking him how he liked our show the first year I performed onstage at Mountain River Ranch, and he said something like, “It’s not really my thing,” but even when he wasn’t really excited to watch what I was involved in, I could always count on him to do his best to support me. He even made it down to watch one of my intramural flag football games at BYU. My family was shocked that I was participating in a football league. Really the whole thing was a misunderstanding. I thought the girl had said “Steal the Flag” and I didn’t realize I’d committed to an intramural team. I’d never really been into sports, much to my dad’s disappointment, and my family all got a kick out of the fact that I was on a football team. I think he had to see it for himself. Our team was terrible, but my dad didn’t care. He made the trip to Provo to cheer me on for one of our games.

When he wasn’t cheering us on to our faces at our various events, he was telling everyone who would listen about his kids, sometimes to our embarrassment. He never met a stranger in his life. He would start up conversations with any random stranger he encountered. All they needed for the conversation was something that he related to. If their kids were fussing, he’d try to cheer the kids up and tell about how he had six kids and (then later) lots of grandkids. If the person was wearing a military hat, he’d ask about their service. Then he’d tell about his own service in the Navy and his son-in-law’s service in the Army. If they were wearing swag from one of his kid’s college, he’d start a conversation about it and somehow bring up how one of us was a student there or graduated from there. If he ran into a missionary, he’d ask where they were from and eventually get to how three of his children had served and where. Once, a few years ago, we were all on Temple Square in Salt Lake City to see the Christmas lights. Unbeknownst to him, we started a bet on how many missionaries he’d stop to talk to before the night was over. I was well on my way to winning when Taryn spilled the beans and told him. It made him feel bad, and he stopped talking to the Sisters. It made me a little sad, not because I lost the bet, but because he was always so happy when he was interacting with the many people around him. He never did it in an awkward way like one of those people that pulls out pictures of her kids and tells about each one. No, he just loved people, and he was a master at starting a conversation with anyone, and during those conversations, he just couldn’t help tell his new friend how proud he was of his family.

He often regretted that he didn’t serve a mission when he was young, but looking back on his life now, I can’t help but wonder just how many strangers he must have cheered up throughout all those random conversations over the years. I must confess, I inherited this particular trait from him, and I stop myself on many occasions from entering into conversations with strangers. Many of my mission companions were amazed at my ability to just strike up a conversation with someone in the middle of the store and slowly work the conversation into the topic of the gospel, but it was one of the most natural things in the world for me; I’d been watching my dad do it his whole life.

My dad had the sweet tooth of a toddler, and growing up, we always knew that a trip to town with dad usually meant that we’d get a treat. When the grandkids arrived on the scene, Dad would always make sure to have goodies on hand to give them when they came for a visit. They could always count on Grandpa to be their sugar dealer, especially for fruit snacks or lemon drops at church. He even made sure to have our favorite snacks when he came to visit us or when we’d go to visit him. He knew how much Brian liked peanut butter and certain fudge-striped cookies, and it was more the exception that he DIDN’T buy them for our visits. Sunday evenings usually meant him asking one of us to bake cookies or some other kind of treat, and though I haven’t lived with my parents for around 16 years, I still find myself with an urge to bake something sweet every Sunday.

My dad was the shopper in the family. My grandma would marvel that he would load up all his little kids and head into town, often by himself. He didn’t always buy anything; he just liked looking at all the things and rummaging for a good deal. One of his favorite spots to go was D.I. He could spend hours there, and often did. Many a road trip involved trips to the local D.I., and I remember at least one trip that involved going to a swap meet. He was never in a hurry; he just enjoyed seeing everything. After the grandkids came, he’d often take them out with him on these excursions, and they always came back with a toy or a book and a treat.

My mom, on the other hand, is not a shopper, and she doesn’t really like lingering at places. When I was a senior in high school, I had set up a day to go and tour Utah State University. I wanted my mom to go with me, but my dad came instead. A few days before we headed on our tour, I received my scholarship letter to BYU, which was where I really wanted to go. However, I wasn’t completely sure, and my dad encouragingly said we should still go to Utah State and check it out to help me make my decision. He patiently walked all over that campus with, willing to go talk with anyone and everyone about whatever program I was interested in. We visited the music department, the interior design department, and the different on-campus housing places that I was interested in living. He helped me investigate everything, never rushing me and never making me feel like I was a burden on his time. That was the trip that I learned that if I needed someone who was willing to explore everything, see everything, Dad was the one to take, not Mom. Mom was the one to teach you how to drive in rush hour, but Dad was the one to take on the exploratory trips.

Not long after that trip, I chose to attend Brigham Young University, and I really owe that decision so much to my dad. Since he grew up in Lehi, he was an avid BYU fan his entire life. I grew up watching him cheer for BYU, and he slowly acclamated me to the idea that BYU was the best school in the world, and I always wanted to go to school there. It wasn’t that it was a Church school, it was always about those Cougars! My dad loved the Cougars, and so did I. It’s a good thing too, because I met the love of my life at BYU.

Education was very important to my dad. After leaving the Navy, he went to school and trained to be a dental lab technician, and few years later, he began attending night school through the University of Idaho. As I grew up, I watched as he left early to catch a bus to head out to the Site for work, and then he’d attend night classes after he got home. Through it all, he encouraged us all to get good grades so that we could earn scholarships and get into college. He wanted me to be the valedictorian, just like my mom was. He was so proud of all of our school achievements. He dreamed and worked towards his Bachelor’s of Science degree for 13 years, finally graduating in 2003, the same year I graduated from high school. I insisted on having a picture taken of the two of us in our robes, and I put the photo in a frame and kept it on display while I was at BYU. Anytime things got hard, or I wanted to give up, I would look at the picture and keep going. Even though he was four hours away, he was right there, cheering me on, encouraging me to do my best and finish my degree while I was still young, before I had kids. I finished my coursework three weeks before I married my sweetheart. When Brian was ready to quit his masters’ program after landing his first career job, I refused to let him quit. I remembered my dad and all those years of night school, and I told Brian that he was finishing this degree before we had any more kids and while Michael was too young to remember all that extra time it took.

Dad's Life Sketch

Kirk Chadwick Life Sketch

Kirk Chadwick was born to Morris Wells Chadwick and Jana Lee Tolton on August 9, 1959 in Murray, Utah. (We think he was born at night, because he was often fond of saying that he may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night.) He grew up in Lehi, Utah, and as a child, he loved to spend every spare minute that he could outside playing in the dirt, mud, and water. As he grew older, his interests expanded to hunting and fishing, as well as sports. He especially loved playing baseball as a catcher and playing football as well. As the oldest child, he often looked after his younger siblings, Dean, Blake, and Rachelle. 






As a child, Kirk attended Primary and was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was a descendent of early pioneers. However when his younger brother, Scott,passed away from SIDS, the tragic incident shook his parents’ faith and the Church became less important in his home.

When he entered high school, the school automatically signed him up for Seminary, assuming that he would want to go. Because he resented this assumption, he refused to participate, choosing to attend other classes instead.

After his parents divorced when he was 15, Kirk stayed away from home as much as possible. Fortunately, he had some good friends to hang out with. When he was 16, he started attending Church services with his high school buddy, Cole Davis, and he became a regular fixture in their home. It was during this time that he became active in the church and began gaining a testimony of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.

During this timeframe, the family grew larger when his dad, Morris, married Kenna Turner who brought a step-sister Carol. Later, Melanie was born to them. His mom, Jana, married Leonard Higley. From this union, his youngest sister Shirley was born.


Kirk graduated from Lehi High School in 1977, and immediately enlisted in the United States Navy. He spent his first year in inactive duty, and then entered boot camp in 1978. After graduating from Boot Camp, he had a short stint in Tennessee for an Aviation Electronics A School. While attending A School, he learned that his sister, Rachelle, had leukemia. He was worried about Rachelle which distracted him enough that he didn’t do well in A School, consequently, the Navy sent him to the fleet assigned to the aircraft carrier, USS Ranger, in San Diego, California.




In the spring of 1980, after coming back to shore after a weeklong work-up cruise,in preparation for his second West PAC tour, he called the Young Adult rep. to see what activity was scheduled for his singles Ward, and learned that there were no activities. The rep told him that there was a girl from Idaho that wanted to do something. He pulled together an impromptu activity involving football, a beach, and two girls, his roommate and himself. That girl from Idaho had the most beautiful red hair he’d ever seen, and she had amazing football skills to boot. He was hooked! Her name was Leta. On July 26, 1980, they were married in the Idaho Falls Temple. They spent their honeymoon, as it were, driving from Ririe to San Diego as Kirk had to be back for more work-ups. He left for his second tour in September of 1980, so they spent their first Christmas with an ocean between them. In early January, Kirk flew home from Kenya, Africa back home to San Diego, CA for his dental technician school.






In November of 1981, Kirk and Leta welcomed their first baby, Emily, and in May of 1983, they welcomed their second baby, Chelsea. Not long after Chelsea was born, Kirk finished his commitment to the Navy, and Kirk and Leta moved to Ririe, Idaho so Kirk could attend Dental Lab School in Idaho Falls. He graduated in the spring of 1985 and took a job at a dental lab in Meridian. Leta stayed behind in Ririe for a few months because she was pregnant with their third child. When Kirk came home for the long Fourth of July weekend, Leta gave birth to their third daughter, Devri, on July 4th. After Devri was born, the whole family moved to Meridian, Idaho. Shortly afterwards, they purchased a house on the outskirts of Boise. In September of 1986, Kirk and Leta welcomed their first son, McCallan.




Life in Boise was particularly challenging for Kirk and Leta. Devri, who was born with congenital hip dysplasia, needed surgery to correct her hip problem. They had four small children under the age of six, one of which was in a body cast, and they didn’t have the help and support that they needed. In fact, much of the time, they felt ostracized and looked down upon by their neighbors, which was especially difficult for them. Leta asked Kirk to take her home. In 1987, Kirk took a job at a dental lab in Idaho Falls so that they could be closer to family and have more support through their challenges.

Not long after moving to Idaho Falls, Kirk lost his job at the Dental Lab, and he knew he needed to pursue a different career. Looking for additional direction, he completed an application to Rick’s College, but in August of 1989, he got a job offer at the Department of Energy Site (known locally as “The Site”), and decided to forgo attending college at that time. Thus began his long stint of getting up early to drive to catch a 2-hour (each way) bus ride to the Site.

In the spring of 1990, Kirk started taking college courses at night. His morning began at 4:30 am. He would work all day, attend classes in the evening and eventually arrive home after 10:00 pm. He completed his assignments on the bus and late at night. That fall, McCallan was diagnosed with cancer and their next challenge began. This time was a major crucible for Kirk and Leta, especially Kirk, as their only son underwent chemotherapy treatments at Primary Children’s Hospital in Utah.

In many ways, he felt like he was repeating his time in Tennessee when Rachelle was sick. He did poorly in his classes as he worried and worried about what would happen with McCallan. Kirk had to muster up all his strength and faith to be strong for his young family and give priesthood blessings to his son. The soft spot he already had for kids was made even more tender, and he could never watch the Children’s Miracle Network Telethon without sobbing, especially during the song, “Thank God for Kids.”

In November 1990, Taryn was born, and she was a joy in the midst of McCallan’s battle with cancer. Ethan completed the family in May of 1992, just a couple of days prior to McCallan’s last chemotherapy treatment..




Kirk continued to attend night classes, but still found time to coach each of his kids in Ririe’s City Basketball League. He loved sports, and constantly tried to instill a love for baseball, basketball, and football into the hearts of his children. While each child participated in basketball, t-ball, and pitching machine, the deep love for sports really only landed in the hearts of his two sons. That didn’t stop him from getting his family out in the backyard to play softball, basketball, and even field hockey. Occasionally, the neighbor kids would come join in the backyard sports.





Kirk loved coaching McCallan and Ethan in baseball. He would check out coaching books from the library in Idaho Falls to help him be a better coach to all those boys. He tried really hard to get a baseball program going in Ririe, but could never really get it to take off. He also coached Ethan’s grid-kid football team. He loved being able to go and watch all of his kids’ sports events whenever he could.

Even though sports events were his favorite, he was always supportive of everything his kids participated in. He really didn’t like hearing them practice the piano or their band instruments, but he was at every recital and every concert, as well as all four of his daughters’ Junior Miss Programs. He supported all of his kids in their passions and interests, and he strongly believed that his kids were capable of anything.

He was a huge advocate for education, especially because his educational path was so difficult. He encouraged his children to get good grades, always keeping college at the forefront of their minds. He graduated from the University of Idaho in May of 2003 culminating a 13 year effort, and it was one of his proudest accomplishments.

Five months after receiving his Bachelor’s Degree, Kirk was laid off from his job at the site, and he struggled for years to find a job requiring his skill-set in the area since the Site would never hire him back. He held many different jobs over the next 15 years, including a job manning the National Guard Base in Rigby for two years while the unit was deployed, working in the Service and Parts Department at Broadway Ford in Idaho Falls, and substitute teaching at the various school districts in the area. He started a business during this time and was able to use this to combine his love of community and sports by screen printing t-shirts, often with the local school district.



He was able to secure employment for a time at Madison School District as a custodian because he wanted to do whatever he could to support his family. While he was grateful for full-time employment, and even got promoted to a supervisor position, he often felt demeaned by patrons at the school, and he hated the stigma attached to being a custodian. He became more and more miserable the longer he worked until Leta convinced him to quit and they’d figure something else out.

Eventually, he was able to get a job as a safety consultant for a company that reviews Head Start preschools across the country, and he loved being able to travel across the country making sure the schools were safe for the children who attended them. He relished being able to use his work experience and his college degree at this job. Unfortunately, Head Start changed their guidelines a year after he started consulting resulting in fewer reviews, and he was once again back looking for meaningful employment and substituting at the local school districts.

In 2017, Kirk found a posting for a job with the Idaho Falls School District that seemed to be written just for him. The job involved overseeing all the safety needs in the district, and was the perfect mix of his work experience at the Site, his work inspecting Head Start Centers, and even his time as a custodian. Thankfully, he got the job, and he spent the last two years of his earthly life in a job that he enjoyed, despite unfounded constant worry that he would lose this job as well.

Throughout his life, Kirk wanted to create a better life for his family than the home he grew up in. He grew up in a home with very little, and he always wanted to give his family so much more. He often sacrificed the things that he wanted so that his children could have the things that they wanted. He constantly worked to be the kind of son that his Father in Heaven would be proud of. He wanted to be perfect, and he often lamented over what he lacked.





He struggled with his health for years. He was constantly in pain with his knees, despite multiple replacements. He had far too many kidney infections and other infections. At the time of his death, he was fighting yet another raging infection, and his heart just couldn’t handle the stress anymore. He passed away on June 12, 2019. The heart attack that took his life was completely unexpected, but his family takes comfort in knowing that he is no longer in pain, and that he is back with His Savior, who he loved so much.

Kirk was incredibly proud of his military service and his college degree, but his greatest pride and treasures were his 6 children, their spouses, and his 14 grandchildren. His family was his whole world, and he loved to find ways to spoil each one. He loved to get the treats when they were at the store. He’d stock up on their favorite snacks when he knew they’d be in town, He was constantly on the prowl for fun, unique toys to give them, and he usually made some kind of wooden toy or treasure for Christmas. However, as much as he loved his crew, he loved his sweetheart, Leta, even more. He loved her beautiful red hair and her fiery personality. She was the love and light of his life, and he would have been completely lost without her.





Even though Kirk was often frustrated by people’s driving, he is remembered most for his outgoing and friendly disposition. Kirk had a reputation at church among the primary children for having fruit snacks in his pocket. He never met a stranger in his life and was known for always having a smile and a friendly word for everyone who came across his path. He found (sometimes distant) connections with people all around him. He was incredibly giving of his time, his talents, his things, and his heart.