My Dad

On August 22, 2011 my father, Aaron Le Bond, passed away. After having told everyone for months that he could die any day, or live for years.... I was still surprised. I had gone to spend the day with him. I had brought Gnomeo and Juliet for us to watch. A book to read if he was tired. A blanket to crochet for Iwalani's baby, and ingredients for homemade chicken soup.
He has a hard time talking without losing his breath, so I usually carry the majority of the conversation, or we are quiet.

Usually he'd answer a direct question, but sometimes it's very quiet.

I don't know if you've noticed, but he has beautiful blue eyes. I was kneeling down next to him, looking under the bill of his BYU hat, seeing if his wanted anything. And although he could see me and look at me, I realized that he couldn't talk to me. So I talked to him.

I told him that I loved him, and a tear rolled down his eye. He tried to talk to me, and I think he was trying to say that he loved me. Those were the last words he'd spoken to me the night before. He'd take off his hat, because I'd kiss him on the top of his head, and he said he loved me.

I was named after my dad. My mom wanted to name me Erin Leigh Bond. and my dad said no.
So I was named Karen Leigh Bond. The interesting thing is if you're being called, they sound a lot alike. I'd always say I thought she was talking to my dad.

He and I are a lot alike. We are stubborn, determined, and extremely loyal. We will do anything for those that we love. Whenever I wanted to know what to do, I would ask him. The interesting thing is, he'd always ask me WHAT I wanted to do, because I'd be the one that had to live with it.
I could ask about what was the best this, or that... and he'd tell me because usually he'd checked consumer reports and looked this up.

Unlike many older people, when computers came, he saw all the possibilities that they provided and jumped on the bandwagon. He wasn't afraid to learn new things when they were good.

He had a saying for ALL situations. Many he said were from his mom, or grandma . . . etc.
"Let your vittles shut your mouth", " Be careful what you say, your tongue is in a wet place, and might slip", there were many, many more.

On my living room wall is a saying, "Be true to who you are and the family name you bear". He talked to me about that when I was a teenager, and said that his dad's name, and his name and my name were the same. And what I did reflected well, or poorly on it. AND that I shouldn't do anything to shame that name. I always remembered.

As alike as we were in many ways, we were also different. We'd go to service stations when I was young, and dad would be outside talking to the people pumping gas, or to the other customers. When he'd get back into the car I'd ask, "Did you know that person?" (we'd be in a strange town)
And he'd say, "no". And I learned that you could talk to people. Just carry on conversations with them, and be nice, even if you didn't know them.

He talked to the people in grocery stores, at the meat counter, and the fish place, in the produce section, at the cash register. He knew their names, about their family, what was happening in their lives, and he'd introduce me to them. After my mom died, we'd do that a lot. Go from store to store, visiting with his friends.

Dad taught me to love music. He could play anything. He'd been in a band in his youth, and supported his new family by playing for dances, and in bars. He didn't like the way he smelled when he came home from playing, and later gave lessons to help support his family.

Because he was working so hard to give us a home, he was often away. I'd often be in trouble, and one time he told me he should just spank me so that I could get that out of the way.

When I was in fourth grade and learning embroidery at Primary, he was the one who showed me how to do it right. Fifth grade, crocheting, Sixth grade, Knitting. My mom learned how to do these things as an adult, but my dad had learned as a child, because he was home, sick, and couldn't go to school, so he'd help my grandma bond. If it was worth doing, he'd learn how.

One of his favorite scriptures was Joshua 24:15, " Choose ye this day whom ye will serve, but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." This too is on my living room wall, surrounded by family photos that include him. He taught me ALL MY LIFE that while it didn't matter what my "job" was, it did matter that I did it to the best of MY ability. and that serving the Lord came first.

Dad grew up in a very small town, Ramah, NM. Most of the people there were related to him.
So he knew how to do everything. When the nearest "big town" was Grants, or Gallup. An hour either direction, you learned how to fix things, make things, build things, and just figure it out.

He rode horses in those old western movies, worked on the ranch herding cattle, planting crops, and doing whatever needed to be done. He was an MP in the Army during the Korean war. He traveled back and forth across the US on trains, and driving. He could tell you stories about it all. Although he wouldn't ever talk to me about the army, or the war itself.

He'd seen London, and Paris, and had slides that he'd show us. He'd help my uncle take the sacs of scent off of skunks, back when you'd have them for pets. We had two pet skunks, and they were wonderful. One time the sac burst and squirted on his glasses and melted the frame. He had to drive a LONG way to get them fixed, with his head out the window because it was so stinky. The man who fixed them came back, looking slightly green, and told him there was no charge, but promise him if it happened again, dad would go somewhere else.

A sweet man at the temple tells me every week how much he loves my dad, and to tell him. So I did, each week, for over a year. Last week I asked him why he loved him so much. He seemed startled by my question, but said that he cared for people. He was compassionate, and that he was very organized and could always just do things right.

Do your best, do your best, do your best.

I love him for always, and I know that HE DID HIS BEST.