No Coincidences

Tag: grandpa

Grandpa Frank

My most vivid memory of Grandpa Frank, aside from the “Wogs” (the nickname he had for me) and sitting on his lap as a kid, being squeezed into a ball, and being told I would grow up that way, is a few years ago when he bore his testimony in a church meeting. Paraphrasing, Grandpa said:

“I miss my wife. I miss my daughter. I miss them so much. But this Gospel tells me I will see them again. That means more to me than anything. And I know it’s true, and that brings me so much comfort.”

As the legend goes, Grandma Leach converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in her early 30s. While Grandma lugged kids to church every Sunday, Grandpa Frank would watch football, golf, or go fishing. He seldom attended. He showed little to no interest in church.

Again, as legend goes, after over a decade of this, the bishop of Grandma’s ward came to the door one day.

“Are you excited for this Saturday?!” He asked.

“What is happening Saturday?” Grandma asked, confused.

“Frank’s baptism!” The bishop exclaimed.

Grandma had no idea. For months, on the sly, Grandpa Frank had been meeting with the missionaries and studying the Book of Mormon. He decided it was true. I have no idea why he never told Grandma. I don’t think anyone knows. Maybe this is where I get my secretive, stubborn, frustratingly independent qualities (sorry Beth).

That Saturday he got baptized and proceeded to go to church with the family from then on.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Change. A man who preferred football, golf, or fishing realized the most important thing in his world was his family. He sacrificed what he wanted to do on Sunday for them.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Faith. A man who decided to believe something extraordinary: he could and would spend eternity with those he loved most.

What is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, really?

Love.

I didn’t cry when I heard Grandpa died. I know I’ll see him again. I know where he is. I know he’s happy.

As I write this, a vision comes to my mind.

Grandpa Frank sees Grandma Sandra. He smiles. He is overjoyed to be reunited with the love of his love, his constant companion until the previous four years separated them temporarily. He embraces her. “It’s really true, Sandra?”

“You always knew it was,” Grandma tells him.

Others come. Grandpa is surrounded by Laura, Mike, Henry, Olivia, parents, grandparents, friends, loved ones, and Bengie, of course. They rejoice. People (and a dog) he missed so much, but always knew he’d see again.

As I picture this reunion, and I think about where I am, similarly stubborn and obnoxious as Grandpa Frank, I think about my daughters, and this family I’ve been given. I think about the faith I’ve gained because I’ve seen examples of real faith. Faith as tangible as this keyboard I now type on. Grandpa Frank’s faith was real. I think about those I’ll one day see again. I think about those I have in my life now, that I’ll be able to have in my life forever. As I consider this all, I cry tears of joy.

This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I know that Grandpa knew it and I know where he is now.

What greater comfort is there than this?

Thank you, Grandpa, I’ll see you soon.

February 5, 2026
Letter to Grandpa Q

My grandpa Stan recently turned 90 years old. For his birthday, all his children and grandchildren wrote him a letter. This is the letter I wrote to my grandpa.

Grandpa,

One of my earliest memories was my first and only trip to Grandaddy Lake. It was horrible. Keep in mind, I was maybe 4. It rained the whole time. It was so miserable. But I still remember it.

I remember hiking back after the long week there. It was raining. I’m not sure it ever stopped raining. I was walking through mud, and I was crying. Everyone else was hiking with big backpacks for the trip. I had my little toy backpack on, and I was crying about it, about the hike, about the rain, about the mud, about my miserable existence.

You got frustrated with me. It was the only time I recall seeing you frustrated/angry/mad. I cried more.

My dad took my little backpack. I still have a memory of my dad shirtless, hiking in the rain. He was hiking now with his huge backpack on his back and my little backpack on his shoulder.

I looked around at all my aunts, uncles, you, and my dad and realized no one else was complaining. Everyone was cold, wet, and frustrated, but no one was complaining.

This core memory has stuck with me. I like to think it impacted me and in some minor, or possibly major ways, has shaped me.

The Las Vegas Quackenbush clan (my family) has never been to Granddaddy Lake. We have our modern-day equivalent. We now go to the theme park Six Flags Magic Mountain multiple times a year. It is a requirement that any future in-law go through the gauntlet of a 12-hour day at Magic Mountain before they can even think about being accepted into the family.

When Beth came to Six Flags with us for the first time, we were all so happy because there was a high heat warning. The lines were great! Meanwhile, we almost died. My roommate came with us to Six Flags once. He’s sworn to never return.

I now have two daughters that I joke, tongue-in-cheek, about needing to remove as much Cannon from (Beth’s maiden name) and insert as much Quackenbush into as possible.

This is the Grandaddy Lake mindset. More importantly, this is what it is to be a Quackenbush. I take pride in my name.

I take pride in you.

I take pride in our pioneer roots.

I take pride in the foundation of faith I have been afforded.

I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for me.

I take pride in what you and Grandma built, for my family, for my daughters.

I want to thank you for choosing an eternal companion of from among the devoted young women of The Kingdom. That is a line from my patriarchal blessing. I was able to choose an eternal companion who is an amazing mother, wife, and person because of you. I am able to raise my daughters with a confidence in things eternal because of you and Grandma. I am able to see the bigger picture, endure, have faith, progress, learn, grow, and get better, all with an understanding of who I am and where I come from, because of you and Grandma.

I don’t know what I did to earn the position in the family I’ve been given, but I thank you.

I look forward to one day having a life review. I hope to see some or all of your life review and Grandma’s life review. I look forward to one day seeing all the sacrifices endured and trials met head on by Grandma and yourself so that I could have the mortal experience I have been afforded. You and Grandma are a foundation. You created a foundation. In this life I’ll never fully understand all you went through and struggled with so I could have what I have. One day, I hope to understand. On that day, I will stand, and I will kneel, and I will thank my progenitors, you, for what you did for me. We all will.

Thank you. We love you. We are grateful for you.

With all the love you deserve, and I can give,

Brayden

January 4, 2024
Mike Leach

In the Spring of 2009 Uncle Mike helped fund a trip for my entire family to go to a Club Med to celebrate my grandparents 50^th wedding anniversary. I was an extremely moody teenager at the time. It was still a memorable experience. That’s the kind of trip you never forget. Participating in trapeze acts, golfing, boogie boarding at the beach, paddle boats, volleyball, skate parks; that was a fun trip. I wonder if that was the last time the whole Leach family was together. It had to have been. Laura moved on in May of 2018. My grandparents made it to 63 anniversaries. Grandma moved on May of this year.

When my brother Dresdan received the Melchizedek priesthood, my family went to St. George for the ordination. We went to my brother’s church that day. I remember my Grandpa Frank bearing his testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Grandpa talked about the pain involved in burying a child when Laura died. He’s since had to bury his best friend/wife and now his oldest son. My heart goes out to Grandpa.

Grandpa talked about the pain of saying goodbye, but in his testimony, he pointed out the most important thing. He emphatically testified that day that he would see Laura again. I know that my grandpa knows he will also see Grandma and Mike again.

When I talked to my mom hours after Mike passed, she said Sharon was doing surprisingly well. She was strong. Not that my mom needed any reminding, but I mentioned how important our faith is in these moments. When you know you’ll see someone again it becomes a painful, but endurable goodbye. My Aunt Sharon’s strength comes from her faith. I know my cousins will be ok too.

Mike was a man of deep faith. It warms my heart to think of him with Grandma and Laura again. It saddens my heart to think that my cousins and aunt will have to go so long without him. I hope they remember, it’s a couple more decades, and then eternity.

61 is a young age to move on. So is 71 and 81 and 91 and 101. Goodbye is goodbye, no matter how old you are. It occurred to me that if I move on at 61, Sage won’t yet be 30. I can’t imagine not seeing Sage reach 30. Mike didn’t get a chance to see his two youngest children reach 30. My heart aches for them.

Mike is my mom’s oldest brother. I say “is” because, if you read my blog, you know I know he’s not really gone. He’s still her oldest brother. He’ll forever be her oldest brother. My mom has said in the past that I remind her of Mike. Few see the resemblance. I think my mom’s view comes from him being her oldest brother, and I am the oldest of my siblings. I like to think I’m like him. He was able to show his brilliance to so many people through football. Mike Leach will go down in history as one of the most innovative college football minds of all time, and most interesting. His impact on this world goes far, far beyond football. The most important thing he ever did was be a husband and a father. I think he would agree. I look forward to asking him one day.

Last year I “interviewed” Uncle Mike. I read a lot of books that say to talk to the successful people around you. Pick their brain. My Uncle is one of the most successful people in the history of his profession. What a person to interview. Mike was a busy man. He spent over an hour on the phone with me, answering my questions.

I want to share something Mike said to me that night that I think encapsulate the way he lived his life.

I asked Mike what’s something he believes that others think is crazy. His response was, “People put limits on themselves. Perceive where you’re going, value the journey.”

I also asked Mike the question we all wondered: How and why did you get a law degree and then end up coaching football? He said that since he was very young, he enjoyed coaching. He got his law degree and then he realized, if he didn’t try coaching right then he might never do it. He didn’t want to give coaching a try when he was old and retired from law. He didn’t want to look back and wonder what it would have been like to coach. Thank goodness for the world that Mike Leach gave coaching a try first. The world would have missed out on some classic and memorable Mike Leach moments.

“Perceive where you’re going, value the journey.” I think Mike valued the journey. I think he will value his new journey. I can picture him, so joyful, reuniting with loved ones now. I can also feel the pain in his heart for the time he will go missing his wife, children, and grandchildren.

Life is short. We say that to remind ourselves to live it to the fullest. It can also be said to remind ourselves that goodbyes here are always short in the grand scheme. He’ll be united with his family again. He knows that, his family knows that, Grandpa knows that. Death is made bearable in its short-lived victory. Ultimately, death has been defeated already. Its victory is a farce, though the pain we feel is real.

For a guy who is often described as the most quotable person in football, there’s no more fitting way to end this than with a legitimate Mike Leach quote. When asked how the Mike wanted to be remembered and how the Mike Leach obituary should be written, Mike responded, “well that’s their problem, they’re the one writing the obituary, I mean, what do I care? I’m dead.”

Mike, we’ll miss you. We’ll see you soon.

December 15, 2022
The Mourning Dove

The Mourning Dove was one of my favorite books of 2020. It’s the first book I made Beth read. I read it in 2 days which isn’t much to brag about at only 84 pages.

The inside cover reads:

“A tender story of growing up, exploring life, exploring life, and discovering the boundaries and the defining moments of love.”

The back cover reads:

“The Mourning Dove is heart touching. It penetrates your soul and makes you glad to be alive.”
-Mark Victor Hansen, co-author of Chicken Soup for the Soul

This story is so good, so uplifting, so all the good things. I will put it at the top of books I would recommend to someone. It’s especially easy to recommend because it’s such a quick and easy read. I know people are increasingly busy and it’s hard to find time to sit down and read a long book. This book is short and sweet. You will finish it feeling like you’ve grown immensely after spending time with Pop, the main character’s grandpa.

After finishing the book, I wanted to write a screenplay. This book would make such a good movie. The message in it is simple. The story of a young boy learning adult lessons is timeless.

I had no idea Larry Barkdull wrote another book I loved titled Zion: Seeking the City of Enoch. Mr. Barkdull has an easy-going writing style that I enjoy because it’s not so difficult to follow. His stories flow and are combined with good messages. I’ve walked away from both his books feeling like I’ve learned something about life and myself.

I can’t say enough good things about this book. It can be found online for like a dollar. Buy it. You won’t regret it.

Sadly, while looking up information about this book I learned that Larry Barkdull passed away in 2016. I’d like to share this from his obituary:

Many will remember him as their gospel doctrine teacher, home teacher and friend, as he tended to the needs of those he loved. Larry also served weekly in the temple as an ordinance worker, a calling he cherished. Above all else, Larry’s greatest joy was his family. The only title he wished to follow his name was D.A.D. He left his family a legacy of great faith and leaves a hole that can never be filled. Words cannot express the least of what we feel. We love you. Our hearts are broken, but we know we will be together again.”

I don’t know how you can read that without a tear coming to your eye. Mr. Barkdull was clearly an inspired and important individual sent for an important purpose in God’s plan. I’m grateful I got to see a glimpse into his soul through his writing.

July 29, 2021
House Pets
Sometimes I look at my dog and think, “he wouldn’t last 5 minutes out in the real world.” If he had to go out and hunt/scavenge for food and water, on his own, no chance. Being cute getting someone to give him food and water would be his only chance at survival. If that option is removed, he’s a goner.

Look at this picture. It looks like he just ate a plate of strawberries and his afternoon plans are to lounge and get belly rubs.

Exhibit A

Granted, he is an 8-pound poodle/terrier mix. He wasn’t bred to survive in the wild. He was bred to be cute and to get people to give him stuff. I’m just saying, removing that option = goner.

I can already hear the “big” dog owners. “My dog would survive in the wild. Yours is closer to a cat, mine still has some wolf instincts.” OK. Your golden retriever is not surviving a week in the wild without its cute factor, just the same as my poodle/terrier.

Exhibit B

My dog lives the most cushy life imaginable. He sleeps all the time. He wakes up and eats. He sleeps some more. He goes on walks. Then he sleeps. He plays. He goes on bike rides. At 9:30pm he stares me dead in the eyes and I know he’s saying, “You know good and well it’s time for bed.”

It wasn’t until just recently that a very obvious and humbling fact slapped me right across the face. I wouldn’t survive a week out in the wild.

I was looking at my (adorable) little dog curled up on the bed, petting his soft hair, admiring how good he is, being jealous of how easy his life is, when I had that thought. “You poor pathetic creature. What would you do without me?”

Who was I talking to?

*Slap to the face.

What would I do out in the wild?

Here I was in my air-conditioned condo, with a giant Hydrapeak water bottle filled to the brim with ice cold water that I filled from my refrigerator. That morning I’d poured Berry Colossal Crunch into a bowl, pulled a cold jug of milk from the refrigerator, and had cereal, like a proper grown man should do. That morning I’d taken a piping hot shower. I let the water run long enough so that it was plenty warm. Cold shower? No chance! Running water came from a tap where I put a toothbrush I’d squeezed mint toothpaste onto to brush my teeth. I then sat in a comfortable chair and worked at a computer.

Who was I to judge my dog? I was living the same life my dog was!

Put me out in the wild without food and water and tell me to figure it out. Remove the option of me going to someone’s door and saying, “please feed me,” and I had no chance.

I don’t think we take the time often enough to
1. Stop and realize how blessed we are.
2. Realize how pathetic we are.
What would I do out in the wild without a can opener? Let alone having to hunt and find food?

I’ve recently read a couple books about the old west. A story I just read was about an 11-year-old boy who ran off with some Shoshone Indians (Native Americans). He lived two years with them. Eating buffalo meat. Hunting rabbits. Fishing for trout. I was amazed at the life this boy lived just 170 years ago.

Can you imagine if your ancestors could look at you now? What a pathetic sight you would be. Your great-great-great-great grandpa would marvel at your fancy light up information device and cans of food but would ask you, do you know how to hunt? Do you know how to guide yourself by the stars? Do you know how to survive without your pre-packaged meals and Uber eats? (Reminder- that great grandfather would be so perplexed by Uber eats).

Can you imagine your great-great-great-great grandmother asking where you keep the chickens? How do you grind the wheat for your bread? (Do you grind wheat for bread??? I DON’T KNOW!) Can you even cook without that radiation device that nuclearizes your food into something *edible?

While modern advances are amazing, truly amazing; we have become so pathetic.

That’s all.

Just thought I would remind all of us of that.

Next time you look at your house cat, little dog, big dog, or even your fish and scoff and say “you dumb and spoiled animal,” I hope you pause for a second and soak in the irony.
October 8, 2020