A Letter to Darin

August 12, 1962 – March 3, 2014

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Dear Uncle D,

Last week I had one of the hardest runs of my life. Not just physically, but emotionally. As soon as I set foot out the door, I felt heavy and numb. I hadn't planned on running with tears in my eyes, but that's what ended up happening--because of you.

At first my tears were tears of guilt. I felt so guilty that I was alive--crying,running, breathing--while you weren't. Why should I be alive when Darin was a far better person than me? He had a family, grandchildren, and a whole ward to look after... Then more tears started to stream down my face. I felt guilty for not reaching out to you, talking to you, or even thinking about you as much as I should have. I should have thanked you more for all the help with my wedding that you did. I felt like an impostor for crying so much since there were people crying less than me who knew you a lot better than I did.

It wasn't until this past weekend at your funeral (which was the most beautiful service I've ever been to in my life) that I realized I knew you better than I thought. The way everyone talked about you and the stories they shared made me realize that you are the most Christ-like person I have ever had the opportunity of knowing on this earth. If I want to get to know you better, all I need to do is come closer to Christ. I need to "Step up to the plate" as you told us all at the family reunion, and that's what I plan to do. My bracelet from your funeral serves as a reminder to me every day to be a little better.

Darin, I just wanted to tell you I'm so grateful for the example you've set for my family with the little time you had here on this earth. You've taught me the importance of not judging others and loving everyone. You've also taught me that the only thing that really matters on this earth are the acts of service and living the Gospel--because that's what you took with you to the other side. I admire you so much for enduring to the end. Even though it's hard for all of us here on earth who miss you (which by the number of people at your funeral I'm confident in saying is A LOT of people), I know you are in a better place. I would say rest in peace, but I know you're not resting. You're onto bigger and better things, and doing the most important work there is. I love you, Uncle D. I'll meet you on home plate someday...