Remarks at the Funeral of David Dean Anderson
Given by Carrie Athay, May 22, 2008
Over the past few days, in quiet moments, I have had a peculiar memory that keeps popping for brief moments into my mind and for a while it was hard to pinpoint why this is what my mind keeps turning to. When I was in High School my dad was the Bishop of our Ward. A really great lady was our seminary teacher, but she had had some trouble with a few of the kids in our seminary class, so my dad, every day, had something that simply had to be taken care of at the church at 6 in the morning. Knowing my dad, I’m sure you can understand then that when Bishop Anderson was in the building Sister Barton no longer left class in tears. In my case what this did was provide an opportunity for Dad to be my early morning transportation. I’ve always enjoyed being with my dad and I’ve always revered him, so being in the car with him for twenty minutes or so, was never a problem.
But I remember a particular morning, just before dawn, sitting in my dad’s car, driving to seminary. The car is slightly cool and we rumble down our dirt road and turn onto Wolfensberger for the ride into Castle Rock. The first rays of the sun are just beginning to lighten the sky and although seminary began a little after six, with my dad, if you weren’t fifteen minutes early you were late. My dad rose early and usually, much to our chagrin, he was whistling loudly, very loudly, to welcome the day. But not on this day. We sat for a moment in companionable silence before we began to talk. I don’t actually remember what we talked about, what I do remember is that I felt that this was the beginning of my grown-up relationship with my father. I think this is why I remember that morning. What the car felt like, how peaceful the morning was. It was when I felt my dad and I had things we could discuss.
I last saw my dad on Sunday. My little family dropped in on my parents in the early afternoon. Very soon after we arrived dad and I sat down on the porch and we began to discuss the lesson he had taught in church. He had spent some time since returning home from church researching a question that was posed to him, and he had just finished writing his essay in response. This is so typical of dad, because if there is a question, he would leave no stone unturned finding an answer, particularly if the answer would support his initial assertion. So he posed his question, and I carefully chose my words in response, knowing full well he was trying to catch me up in some sort of trap. At any rate, I read his essay and we spent a long time discussing things. Dad, trying to be modest, but really feeling quite pleased with his findings, and me, playing devil’s advocate, pointing out that in some of his scriptural references there is more than one interpretation. It was a wonderful afternoon and I will add it to my list of favorite memories and discussions with him. And I know he’s grinning because now he knows the answer, and very likely, he was right.
I have enjoyed talking with my father, bantering with him, sharing with him. I like to think that, even though sometimes our politics and ideas may have differed, he is pleased that I learned from him how to research in order to back up a thesis.
In 2 Nephi 25: 23, 26 we read:
For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ and be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are save, after all we can do....and we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophesies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.
David Anderson labored diligently. He wrote and researched to persuade his children and all those who knew him, to believe in Jesus Christ and in the principles of the gospel. My testimony in this gospel began in early morning car rides and sitting with him in his den, talking. He taught me to research the words and testimonies written by the Lord’s prophets. He shared with me his testimony. He taught me through his example how to live a life based on these principles; principles that he had fully researched and studied.
In fact, his ability to fully study and defend one’s research was fundamental to my career. A career that he often told me made no money, but boy it made him proud I’d found something I liked to do, and it was a good thing I married a man who could provide for me! Dad told me on several occasions that one his proudest moments with me was when he attended an exhibit opening for an exhibit that I curated solely by myself. It opened at Ford’s Theater in Washington DC and was attended by the Under Secretary of the Interior and several United States Congressmen. For me, that exhibit was important because I was able to use my father’s heritage as the foundation for the exhibit.
His heritage was so important to him. He was proud of his Scottish ancestry, he was proud to a be a farmboy from Michigan, he was proud of his service to his country and to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and he was proud of his family. These are things he wanted us to value and treasure; these were things he worked hard to help us understand.
I remember so many summer excursions to the Scottish Highland Games. He loved to watch the pipes and drums, caber toss, the Scottish dance, the sheaf toss, stone throw etc. His enthusiasm was infectious. My little Jane is ready to start Scottish dance lessons because she had so much fun watching with her grandpa.
He often referred to our Anderson family motto: steady as an oak. It was a motto that he fully embraced; he was steady, sure and strong. He was steady and sure in his conviction of the truth of this gospel. And he was firmly rooted in the righteous traditions of his heritage.
I was born after my dad received his testimony of the gospel. I was the first child born under the covenant. My mom often talks about when he was committed to travel all the way from Washington DC to Salt Lake so the family could be sealed in the temple, even though the DC temple would have been completed soon. But he understood how important those temple covenants were and the he had been asked by a member of his church leadership to be an example of unwaivering faith to his family by doing whatever was necessary to get to the temple and be sealed as a family for eternity. His strong testimony reminds me of the Lamanites in 3rd Nephi. 3 Nephi 6:14 reads:
And thus there became a great inequality in all that land, insomuch that the church began to be broken up; yea, insomuch that in the thirtieth year the church was broken up in all the land save it were among a few Lamanites who were converted unto the true faith; and they were firm, and steadfast, and immovable, willing with all diligence to keep the commandments of the Lord.
My dad loved the Book of Mormon and I know as he read these words from King Benjamin he knew of their truth and fully embraced them:
Therefore, I would taht ye should be steadfast and immovable, always abounding in good works, that Christ, the Lord God Omnipotent, may seal you his, that you may be brought to heaven, that ye may have everlasting salvation and eternal life, through the wisdom, and power, and justice and mercy of him who created all things, in heaven ad in earth, who is God above all. Amen. Mosiah 5:15.
I love my dad. I am so grateful for the lessons he taught me, the support he always gave me, the strength of his testimony and his never ending love and encouragement. Each of his children is unique and special to him. He loves us each. Our mom is so precious to him. He did everything in his power to take care of her. I know that all of here will continue that legacy of his and do the best we can for you mom.
I hope my dad knows the depth of my testimony and how he helped to build that foundation in my life.
found void. How we all ached to hear his booming voice and be in his huge presence that could fill a room.
