My Grandpa Slack

"E Potz!!"

That is something my Grandpa Slack would often say just to be silly. I have been thinking of him often lately as I am currently in possession of his history that he wrote that comprises THREE 3-ring binders! Now, that is impressive even for long hand but keep in mind that my Grandpa typed on an old type-writer all the pages with the last binder holding pages with type on both sides!

The marvelous thing about Grandpa is that he hadn't always kept a journal. He began writing it while recovering from having his one lung removed in 1975. He had the most intricate and detailed memory his whole life and so it was quite easy for him to relate of his early boyhood, his meeting Grandma and starting a family and everything up to that point, after which he pretty much wrote two to three times a week until the month before his death. And it was fitting that the last entry in his journal was about the night of his and Grandma's 50th Anniversary Celebration, which was a good time had by all.

Grandpa didn't provide many details as far as feelings and that goes, however he went into intricate detail when describing his massive garden that was envied by all the neighbors and whenever he built something he described the exact length and precise size of nails or screws he used. But when he did describe his feelings they were sweet. Almost every wedding anniversary, he would always say if he had to do it all over again he would've chosen the same sweet beautiful woman. He also always went on about how much he loved his children. And I don't know if it's because she's my mother, but it seemed he always described how Beverly brought sunshine into any room she was in and how she made him so happy. Other times that would elicit feelings from him were when he would describe the symphonies and concertos that he loved to listen to. He played the French Horn in the BYU orchestra, which is where he met my Grandma (she played violin), and most of his entries about when he would listen to music on his massive record collection or when he would see a relative playing an instrument would thrill him to tears.

Also in reading his journal, I've realized just how spiritually great he was too. It was so wonderful reading of how when he was being introduced to give a talk one Sunday in the last years of his life, the person introducing him said, "Brother Slack keeps all of the commandments." I have never heard a truer statement. I never heard, nor read, of my Grandpa speaking ill of anyone, even if they hadn't treated him well at all, he never swore, and he always had that glow of someone great, a glow you could only have by following in the Lord's footsteps.

Grandpa also had a quirky sense of humor which I briefly mentioned at the first, but he was always up for a good natured laugh. I believe it was the day before his death, my mom and my brother, Paul, and my aunt Carol were visiting him at home and he was telling us about how he and his brother Lawrence had this language they made up. He would speak it and it was hysterical.

All of this has reminded me of how much I have been blessed with to have been related to him and only hope that I can be remembered as fondly when my time comes. I have taken a page from my Grandpa (and not his journal's) and have kept a journal off and on over the years since I was 13. I hope that my progenitors get as much a great feeling reading those as I have had reading his.