The Sunday before Christmas, I received a phone call from my mother saying that the nurse was seeing all the signs that death was close at hand and she should call her family. I threw some things in a bag and the car and took my kids to see my dad. It was so hard when we saw how much he had declined in a month with the last bout of pneumonia and a lung staff infection. He had lost so much weight that he looked like a holocaust victim. every bone stuck out and he had to be padded so not even the blankets would touch his skin. His skin was broken out with bed sores. His muscle was completely decomposed. I could almost touch my thumb and middle finger as I put my hand around his calf. He could no longer take in any nourishment or he would aspirate and we'd have to suck it back out to keep him from choking. I was able to get maybe 2-3 Popsicle like sponges soaked with water down him before he would again choke. His urine output was diminishing and he was unable to communicate with us other than the tears that would stream down his face. I spent the next 24 hrs getting as much water down him as possible. His tongue and lips were dry, cracked and bleeding. I would swab out his mouth and chunks of skin would come out. I reflected on words my Daddy had said many years before when his mother was in a nursing home. He said he never wanted to live with no quality of life and be taken care of like that. My Daddy gave me so many opportunities for music, dance, and any other activity we wanted to try. When I was a little girl and taking lessons, he'd ask me to sing " How much is that doggy in the window" It is such a silly song, and I'd get embarrassed. He said I pay for all these lessons and no one will sing me my song. Once in a while I'd appease him and sing it. As I layed next to him and cared for him, the only gift I could still give him was to sing. I layed next to him and hummed or sang all the hymns, primary songs, and yes even "How much is that doggy in the window" My mom kept saying she didn't know what he was waiting for to go home to Father in Heaven. I knew and I think all my siblings and mother knew too. He had lovingly cared and protected us his whole life. Mother would tell Daddy that he better not die and leave her with all this... She wouldn't make a very good widow. I could see Daddy hanging on for all of us. I in my heart hoped for my mother's sake that he would hold on until after Christmas, but knew it was fair to ask that of him. I knew he needed to go home and be at peace. I felt torn as my husband was home and Christmas was in two days. I told my mom I didn't know what to do. It would be Kristin's last Christmas at home and maybe Eric's for at least 3 yrs as he was contemplating serving a mission for the church. If he did he would have to soon start the application process and leave sometime this summer if accepted and approved. Mother said that even if he passed away today or in the next couple of days, There is nothing the funeral home could do until after Christmas. She said to go home and have Christmas with my family, that it was up to the Lord now. I spent the last night on a mattress on the floor by Daddy's bed to continue giving him water to moisten his mouth and put a jelly in his mouth so it wouldn't crack. I sat on a chair by his bed for a good portion of the night to spend as much time as I could with him. I so didn't want to go home, but we packed everything. I delayed and delayed. I finally asked my mother and my siblings if we could have a family prayer surrounding Daddy before I left. I had tried and tried to get the words out to tell Daddy that it was okay to go home to Heavenly Father, but I just couldn't do it. I could say it silently in my heart but not out loud. I told mother that I thought the reason he was hanging on was because he needed permission from us kids and her to go and asked if it was okay with her to do that before we left. She said yes and we called my sister in Arizona that was not there. She had been down the week before and stayed for a week. We didn't want to disclude her or take an opportunity for her to say goodbye without her. We called and arranged for her to go to a quiet place at work and put her on the speaker phone. We surrounded Daddy in love and decided that each of us would tell daddy what was in our hearts and end with a family prayer. My brother and sisters have gone far away from the church over the years, yet still feel the truth in their hearts. My brother turned to my son who is a priest in the LDS Church and said "Son, you are the only priesthood holder and you know what needs to be done for grandpa, you need to say the prayer to let him go." My son began to cry and said he didn't think he could. My brother said yes you can, it's okay. I told him he could start and I'd finish. We each told Daddy how much we loved him and that we were all there to take care of mother. We knew his body was tired and it was time for him to be free from this worldly turmoil and go to Heavenly Father. Everyone told him it was okay to go and mother told him she would be okay and didn't want him to suffer any more. He needed to go and prepare a place for her and she would join him when it was her time. Eric layed his hands on Daddy's head and through his sobs and tears, proceeded to Pray. My Eric is a young man of few words and his prayers are usually very short simple and childlike. Heavenly Father put the words in his mouth and he gave the most profound grown up spirit filled prayer I have ever heard. He told his grandpa that it was time to go home and Heavenly Father was awaiting him. He said that His Father and Mother had also been waiting a long time to be reunited with him as well as his sisters. He had lived a long fruitful life here on earth and he needed to now get reacquainted with his other family. He had another wife before he married mother that died in a car accident not long after the birth of his first child. His daughter was very sick and died also at the age of 7. He needed to now take care of and get to know her. Eric said he released Daddy from this earthly life and was entrusting him to our Father in Heaven. I ended with a family prayer and we all said our goodbyes and left for home. It was the hardest trip home ever. The next morning mother called and said he passed away peacefully in his sleep. It was an incredible experience to see my son step up to the plate and do such a grown up thing. I don't think any of us will ever forget this day. The love, compassion, and admiration, we all felt that day. Families truly can be together forever, and although we have to say our goodbyes for a time here on earth, it will only be a short while til we will be reunited and never have to say goodbye again. I can see my Daddy smiling, running, working again with his hands and still watching over us from Heaven. What a wonderful Christmas gift for him to be in our Father's arms and with our Savior Jesus Christ!
We held his funeral on December 30th. Mother had wanted me to sing a song I wrote many years ago and I didn't think I could. I rewrote some word as my wisdom and maturity have grown over the years and I did sing one last time for my Daddy with the help of my girls as we said our last goodbyes. Then we all sang at his grave site "God be with you til we meet again"
I am so grateful for the family history program that lets us find our ancestors, get to know their histories and helps us connect and seal them to us for eternity. I can't wait until it is my turn to return home to Father in Heaven and personally meet each and every one of them and say..."I didn't forget about you... Your life on earth was important to me and I am so glad to finally meet you.....Now we are together forever!
The following is some thoughts and memories of my life with my Daddy. It is only a small sampling as it will take me much more time to record and recall all our memories, but here are some of the most memorable to me.
My Daddy
By
Nancy Kay Catanach
My earliest memories of my Daddy were when I was between 2 and three. We had a 3 bedroom home that Daddy built little by little as he had enough money to buy more supplies. We moved in our house when I was just 3 months old. Daddy and Mother had their room, Linda and Renee were in another room and Lloyd had his own room. I stayed in my parent’s room for four years until Linda went to Las Cruces to live and work. Because I was in there so long, I can still remember standing up in the crib and hollering for my parents. I was also very attached and as you can guess quite spoiled. Even when I moved into the other room later, if I got scared I’d get to climb into bed with him and mother until I felt safe, settled down, and fell asleep. Then he’d carry me back to bed.
I’d even decide to stay at my grandparent’s house when we’d go to visit and before the night was over, Daddy and Mother had to come and get me. One time I didn’t have a choice and had to stay as Daddy and Mother had to go out of town on business. I cried and cried, Daddy promised me he would bring back something special, upon return they brought home a puppy, part beagle and part wiener dog. We named her princess and Daddy said she was the ugliest princess he had ever seen. He always liked to tease and make jokes even with the puppy. He’d get a permanent marker and draw pinwheels around her eyes and over her head with swirls and lines down her back. Eventually they’d fade and go away, but people would see her and say “What kind of dog is that! I’ve never seen anything like it!” Daddy would just laugh and never told them about the markers. He also liked to feed her peanut butter, which she loved, but he would laugh and laugh as she tried to get it unstuck from the roof of her mouth with her tongue.
We never went without but my parents were very frugal. We learned to make our own fun. They used to say only boring people get bored. He always let us use any scrap materials around the house as he was a do it yourselfer. He had wood, wheels, pipes, nuts and bolts, nails, paint, you name it and he probably had it. Mother had sewing materials. We made all kinds of things. Sleds, go carts, windmills, Barbie doll furniture, play house furniture, tree house ladders and storage, stilts, etc… He could build any kite made (or at least we thought he could) we’d build them and mother would give us scrap material for the tails and off we’d go to fly kites. There was always something we could make. He’d take paper and make us the best paper dolls ever! Even when my best friend Paulette’s father built her a playhouse, Daddy went out to the front porch made of concrete and underneath it there was an enclosed concrete storage area about six by twelve feet. It was only about 4 ft high. The floor was dirt. He moved out his lawn mowers and odd and end equipment, swept out the cob webs and bugs and said have fun. We swept it out and made it our playhouse, put in old furniture or made pretend stuff from Daddy’s scraps. I thought it was the best play house ever as long as Daddy kept sweeping out the bugs!
He was the best bug killer ever as I was terrified of anything that crawled except lizards and horny toads. One time he told me and Paulette that we could get some scrap wood to make a table to have a picnic on in the yard. We did and decided to just lay it across our laps. As we began to eat, my legs were tickling and we flipped the board over to find………….a gigantic tarantula! I peed my pants, screamed, cried as Daddy came running. It was one of the biggest he had ever seen. He began pounding it with a shovel until it was dead. Daddy to the rescue once again!
I couldn’t stand it when Daddy would go and do electrical jobs or jobs around our property without me. Daddy couldn’t stand for me to be sad, and more often than not I’d get to tag along as “Daddy’s helper”. I’d hand him tools, tell him the colors of wires (he was color blind), play with new found friends as he went to different locations, etc… anything to be with him. My elementary school was close to his electrical shop. Mother would work in the office sometimes and I’d walk there after school to “help” Daddy fix things. He seemed to always have a project for me. I was always amazed. Later in years I found out that he never wanted to hurt our feeling by telling us he had to get some work done, so he’d take a break from work about a half hour before school got out and make a project such as hammering nails into wood. I’d get there and he’d say sweetheart I have a job for you, do you think you could help me… I need that piece of wood, but there are nails in it……will you pull them out for me?” I’d get the hammer and pull nails out to my hearts content and he’d be able to finish his work. The best part was that when I was done, we’d go next door to the Rexall Drug Store and get ice cream or chocolate malts at the soda fountain.
He never made us feel like he was too busy to spend time with us. Sometimes he worked two jobs to make ends meet so mom could be home with us as much as possible. He’d get done and come home asking who wants to go for a ride. We’d go on a mountain ride and hear stories from his childhood, go rock hunting, arrow head hunting, check out old mines, go visit old cemeteries where different family members were buried, go hiking, fishing, picnicking, camping, snow sledding behind the pickup, anything to spend time with our family. I was always so oversensitive and always looked out for the underdog.. Daddy used to go deer hunting and once in a while we’d go as a family. I thought it was fun. The first time I saw a dead deer in the back of a truck I got hysterical as I thought Daddy had killed Bambi. It took a while to calm me down. Another time I went to my room crying because I saw them cutting up a deer hanging in the garage. We’d take lunches and sometimes camp while he went. One time I wanted to go with him and he said he didn’t know it would be hard climbing and he might have to run if he saw a deer. I told him I’d keep up. We hiked and hiked and found a rock on top of a hill to rest on. We pulled out something to munch on and Daddy spotted a deer. He said to stay put on the rock and he’d come back for me. He took off running with the gun and all of a sudden what he was about to do became a reality for me. It wasn’t like rock hunting or arrowhead hunting, he was going to shoot something. I began screaming “Daddy don’t kill Bambi, Please don’t kill Bambi!” He said again stay there and don’t move! He came back a while later with me sitting on the rock, tears flowing, and having trouble breathing. I asked him if he killed Bambi and he kissed me and hugged me and said, “No, I didn’t kill Bambi lets go find your mother and go home.” He said I ruined hunting for him that day.
Daddy would come home no matter where he was or what he was doing to tuck us in and say goodnight and go back to work or whatever he was doing. He couldn’t stand it if we were home sick. He’d take off on his breaks to come check on us and feel our heads. Bring us something special to cheer us up. Poke vitamins down us and anything else he thought might help even MOM (milk of magnesium) to clean us out!
One of the most special gifts my daddy gave me was the gift of the gospel. Mother taught us and gave us the opportunity to learn of the Savior and His teachings by herself for many years. Daddy always encouraged us and supported us but was not a member. He had investigated the church several times and I had seen many of my friends get baptized by their dad’s. I was so sad that he might not be able to baptize me. I’d come home from my friends baptisms and cry. He’d ask me what was wrong and I’d tell him. He joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and was baptized by my brother when I was eight and baptized me on October 24, 1970. I couldn’t have asked for a more special gift than that!
When I was small Daddy used to put me inside the steering wheel of his pickup truck and I’d turn side to side.(usually on long trips to the Gila or Mountains) He started teaching me to drive when I was thirteen. We’d go out on the back roads and he say okay sister lets try it. Of course his philosophy was if you can learn to drive a standard you can drive anything. He would find an intersection that stopped on a steep uphill climb, stop the car, put it in first gear, and pull the emergency brake. I’d try to start the car, ease off on the clutch and push the gas only to find out time and time again I had stalled the car. We also had a cleared area across the street from us where the kids would play baseball in the summers. The small trees and weeds would grow up and he’d take the Volks Wagon over there and have me drive around. Who knows how many weeds and trees I drove to the ground learning to drive. He also made us take all the wheels off the car and put them back on so we’d know how to do it in an emergency. We learned how to check the oil and change it “Yuck”
A week after I got my license we went to California to my sisters in our motor home. Daddy drove most of the way and early morning he asked if I’d like to drive. He said to wake him up when we were about to get into Los Angeles. Well…..we got there about 7:00 in the morning and I hit rush hour. I kept banging on the roof above me where the bed was in the motor home and I couldn’t wake Daddy up. I was in a middle lane and cars were all around me. Motorcycles were making their own lane and I couldn’t move over to exit. I started crying and just kept driving. I still don’t know to this day what exit I finally got off of when Daddy got up and talked me off the freeway. Coming from a small town I had never seen anything like that.
Shortly after that trip we were going to Hurley to see my grandparents as we made at least weekly trips. I put on my signal to turn left onto their street and Bam!!! Glass was flying, half the car was gone and I was in my dad’s lap. A car behind me had been traveling 90 mph and tried to pass me as I made my left turn. He hit me broadside. When my dad saw his lights he grabbed my clothes and ripped me from my seat to his lap or I would have been dead. I was looking out my window when he hit and I was wearing shorts and short sleeves. I had glass cuts everywhere, but miraculously I got none in my eyes or anywhere vital. I knew then that God must have greater, future plans for me as he spared my life that day. Again my dad thought of me first and foremost and my safety before his.
Another example of this was the time Daddy, Mother, and I went up to Signal Peek. Mother wanted to pick raspberries as they were ripe and ready to harvest. We drove up to the lookout tower and climbed up to look over the city. Then we went back down where we had seen several bushes full of raspberries. The mountain had been hit with bad weather before we went up and a tractor had plowed the road. Mother got her gloves on so the thorns on the bushes wouldn’t get her and headed to the bank to start picking. Daddy and I were digging in the truck for gloves for us when we heard this shrill scream “Lesterrrrrrrrrrrr…………” It seemed to fade away and we went running. The bank had been hollow under her and gave way. She plunged head first down the hill about 15 feet. Her first reaction was to put her hands out. Her arms went under a log and her face hit the log. Daddy scrambled down after her and as he carried her up all I could see was blood everywhere. Daddy always had scrap rags in the cars for just in case. He gave her a rag to blot the blood to reveal a huge gash above her eyebrow and a puncture wound into her sinus. He threw us in the truck and told her to put pressure on it. I sat in the middle between them and Daddy flew down the mountain (literally). It was @ an hours drive to the hospital and we made it in about 30 minutes. The road had tight pin turns and steep cliffs that dropped off the side of the road. At times we only had two wheels on the road and two over the cliff. I was so scared. The road was dirt and bumpy and as mother tried to hold the rag over her face, it would bounce up and down. The blood kept squirting everywhere. I’m sure I didn’t help as I yelled “Daddy is Mommy going to die?” I began praying that we’d get there quick and safe, as I’m sure my parents were too. Daddy had lost his first wife to a car accident years earlier and buried his baby girl at the age of seven. He was so protective of us and couldn’t stand to see us sick or hurt. We made it to the hospital and the Dr. had to cut mother’s clothes off her body, they did x-rays and rushed her to surgery to stitch her up. I thought for sure I might lose my mother that day. The Lord has also spared her life more than once for his greater purpose here on earth.
We all took various lessons and Daddy was always there to support us. Daddy and Mother were our private cheering squad encouraging us in whatever adventure we undertook. I ran track in High School and it wasn’t as easy as the music or dance and I was trying to learn to get out of the starting blocks faster. He did track himself when younger and one day when I came home, he had built me my own set of starting blocks to practice on. We’d put them on the dirt road out front and he’d give me hints, encourage me, and time me. I never was great at track, but I enjoyed Daddy’s encouragement, love, and help in my endeavors.
My Daddy was taught that boys didn’t cry his whole life and we very seldom saw tears from him. We’d get in trouble and he’d have to go to the other room and cry so we couldn’t see him, but we heard him. The day he took me to college, unpacked my things and left me there, I saw my daddy sob. There was never a lack of love from him.
I missed home so much when I went to college. I would come home on the weekends I could on Friday and stay as late as I could on Sunday night. It used to worry my parents so much. I went home one weekend for my best friend Pamela’s wedding. Still in my formal and High heels, I headed late to my dorm in Las Cruces. I began driving and between Hurley and Deming I got tired and dosed off. The next thing I knew, my car was in a spin and I was off the road. I didn’t know which was to Deming as I was disoriented. I got out cried a while and began looking around. I could see the smoke stacks in the distance from the Kennecott Copper Mine. I got back in the car and continued to Las Cruces. I went through Deming and began the next stretch of the trip. I was within 30 minutes of Las Cruces when …. “thud, thud, thud” I had a flat tire. I got out and thought crap I have to change a tire in my dress. I got out the jack and the spare and noticed, I didn’t have just one flat, but two! I thought to myself that there was nothing for miles around and it would be better to drive on the flats and ruin the rims than stay in the middle of nowhere. I drove until there was nothing left of the tires and saw a trailer off to the right of the highway. I got out and crawled through the barbed wire fence (in a formal and high heals) and headed for the trailer to ask for help or call Daddy. As I approached the trailer, there were no lights on and dogs were barking. There were five Doberman pinchers on heavy chains around the perimeter of the trailer. They weren’t going to let me anywhere near there and no one came out to see what the ruckus was all about. I started walking back and I started praying for help. About the time I started to climb back through the fence a car came behind me on the frontage road. I ran down and they opened the window. Cigarette smoke bellowed out into my face and I started explaining what happened. They paused and began speaking to me in German. I finally pointed to my car, mimed picking up a phone, and said police. They looked confused at me. I knew I could only be a few miles from the border patrol station just outside Las Cruces so I pointed that direction and said again police, police. They opened the car door and motioned for me to get in. It was a six passenger car and I made seven. I don’t know why I got in a strangers car, I said a quick prayer and felt no anxiety of danger. I sat on their laps and we drove a few miles until I saw the border patrol station. I pointed and said police and they let me out. I walked across the highway and down the side of their trailer. As they heard the clicking of my heals on the sidewalk they stuck their heads out in disbelief of what they were seeing. I got in there and told them my situation and wanted to call Daddy to come and help as he had many time before. They told me that there were no phones there only a radio to dispatch in El Paso, TX. They called dispatch and had them call my Daddy to come and pick up the car, called my roommate (who called my boyfriend, not husband), to come get me. I went on to school as soon as they arrived and Daddy took off from Silver City with not one but two good tires to rescue me once again. He got home about 5 in the morning. He never got mad or chastised me, just was greatful I was okay. No task even in our stupidity was ever a burden to him.
The summer after my first year of college, Daddy said that the mine where he worked was hiring college students who’s parents worked in the Phelps Dodge Copper Mine as laborers. It was $10.00 an hour. I was so excited at the thought of going to work with my daddy. Some were placed in the office, some went to the electric shop, others went to the mill. Wherever it was, you couldn’t work in the same place as your parent. I was hoping for the office. I was quite shocked when I found out that I’d be working in the mill. I’d have to were a helmet with a light on the front, safety glasses, metal toed boots, respirator masks and gloves as I’d be shoveling and hauling wheelbarrows of ground up rock dust three levels underground, shoveling and hauling rocks that fell off the conveyor belt, and even using picks and shovels to break up the rock hard residue left behind in the railroad cars from the ore. Daddy was a foreman in the electric shop and he’d come by to check on me. I didn’t know he would watch me from afar as I shoveled the dirty stuff. I’d get the wheelbarrow full and start to push it and it would tip over sideways. My foreman would say fill it up again and I’d start over again. I’d keep working tears streaming down my face. Daddy would tell me sister don’t fill up the wheelbarrow quite so full and put all the weight up front not on the handles. He’d ask the foremen how I was doing and they’d tell him I was a hard worker but they didn’t know if I’d make it past two weeks. Daddy told them that he taught us to work hard and not give up. He said I’d be alright. I soon found muscles I never knew I had and came home filthy. Mother would strip me under a blanket at the back door and I’d go shower. It was the hardest job I ever had and the best as I got to spend every day where my daddy worked. We’d talk everyday on the ride to and from the job, about 40 min each way. I also had to get up at four o’clock in the morning, and I’m not a morning person. My time with Daddy was so worth it!
As I became a wife and mother his support never waivered. He was always there for me. Even when I had early labor and was put to bed rest, mother being a school teacher couldn’t leave for that long, Daddy came up and took care of me, the house and Katrina. The kids always knew that he’d have some kind of treat, candy or something in his pocket and could talk him out of anything. He was such a push over. When Danielle began talking we were trying to get her to say “Hi Grandpa” It would always come out “Pockets” We’d keep telling her “no Grandpa!” But for several years she called both her Grandfather “Pockets”
My boys did scouts and they loved to go home and get tools from grandpa. Eric and Daddy made a toolbox and filled it with tools. Daddy, Eric and Aaron built bird houses and anything else that the boys might be working on. It was great to see his skills passed down to the boys. They treasured helping him and learning about different skills and tools.
One of the greatest bonds I felt with Daddy was when we lost our baby girl after birth. After losing his first wife and burying his baby girl Karen at the age of 7, he understood what my loss felt like. I know that he is now with his family that have passed before him, including his mother, father, sisters, his first wife, his baby girl Karen and his grandbaby, my daughter, Shaina Rose. I am so grateful that we are an eternal family and have the knowledge of the plan of salvation. I know we will be together again, never to be parted and Daddy will be there with arms wide open to welcome me home.
We all enjoyed the company! Especially Grandma N! It was freezing all week and Katrina got sick with a cold. Zoe got reaquainted with long lost family (only a couple of months lost but to a baby an eternity!) So, finally on Halloween it warmed up, but not until after the freeze sent the leaves dropping by the bagfuls. Great opportunity to go play. Not so great for allergies! Lots of fun though. Here are a few treasures. 
one
two
three
whee!
Uncle Aaron also got the biggest pumpkin ever! It ended up being a family project to carve it!Forgot to take the after picture! So Sad! 
Then to end the evening.... Trick or Treat! 
