My GrandDad

It is not a coincidence America is celebrating Veterans Day the same week my grandfather, Alan Layton, passed away. Leaving behind posterity of more than 100 people Grandpa is one of the last few surviving heroes to defend our nation from Hitler and save Europe from utter destruction in World War II. Certainly my grandfather was a major contributor to what former NBC News Anchor Tom Brokaw called, “The greatest generation any society has ever produced.”

Two months ago as I recovered in the pediatric intensive care unit after my heart transplant my grandparents came up to visit. My grandfather had been experiencing dementia in the last few years and occasionally forgot where he was although he acted like he knew what was going on. This is the difficult part in losing a grandparent, watching them grow old and seeing their vibrant spirit fade. He sat in a rocking chair holding his cane at the foot of my bed. I still had most of my tubes in and out of my body. My grandmother was so enthused by my pink lips she was overcome with emotion. She rubbed my feet at the end of my bed and was saying, "Look at your beautiful color." Meanwhile, my grandfather didn't look to happy she was rubbing my feet and quipped, "Don't rub that man's feet!" We laughed and reminded him she was taking care of her grandson.

My Grandfather’s own mother implanted in his heart a love for God and for other people. All you need in your life is a mother who loves you and you have within you the power to become a giant among men. His blood type was a model for his life “B+”. He was an optimist and believed anything was possible.

Aside creating one of the most successful construction companies in the Rocky Mountain region, Layton Construction, my grandfather spent most of his time with my grandmother building up a strong family loyal to one another.

When I was really young my grandparents bought a 2-acre garden with an intended purpose. Each Saturday grandpa gathered the family and taught us how to work the earth. Whether it was tilling, weeding, irrigating, planting seeds of all kinds Grandpa was busy teaching valuable principles of hard work. We enjoyed the blessings of our labor with plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables to circulate among our separate neighborhoods. He was teaching us the benefits service.

Having grown up in the depression and working since he was a child, Grandpa was deeply concerned about people going into debt. He taught, “Pay yourself. You worked for your money. Let your money work for you.” This meant save your money, put it in the bank, and let the interest work to make even more money.

Photo: With my grandparents after our marriage on April 11, 1997 - According to my LDS Faith the person marrying us dresses in white a symbol of purity and of God.

Twenty years ago President Gordon B. Hinckley of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints gave my granddad authority to marry couples in our temples. My wife and I were fortunate and blessed to be married by granddad in the beautiful Salt Lake City Temple. During our marriage ceremony my sweet grandpa gave us sound advice. He said, “Never go to bed angry at one another. Laugh if you have to. Work it out. You need to know what is in each other’s hearts. Tell each other everything.” He counseled us to make God a partner in our relationship. “The good Lord will help you in hard times and bring happiness to your home.”

The morning I was born on April 24, 1973 when my parents were told I probably would not make it because of a congenital heart defect my father picked up my granddad and headed to the hospital. Together they took me into a small room shortly before surgery and held a special prayer with all the faith they could muster. That blessing, that quiet humble prayer, has been vindicated time and time again.

In lieu of my brother’s tragic death on June 9, 2009 our family is grateful Grandpa now joins Brian in the afterlife. What a reunion! I can only imagine my brother anxiously awaiting his arrival with open arms into paradise. I’ll miss my grandfather. I know he'll care for my brother and thousands of others who need strong men of courage, integrity, devotion, and love.

The grief I'm experiencing is that an era has come to an end. The sadness is in the knowledge that none of us will ever be little again to enjoy the little things like working in the garden side by side with granddad, getting an ice cream out of his hands, fishing the Grey's River in Wyoming, or listening to his stories of building things, war, or the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Photo: My brother Brian holding his daughter Ava sitting with Grandpa

I’m grateful for this wonderful man, my granddad, Alan W. Layton, who devoted his life to creating nostalgic memories, which brought us closer together as a family and closer to God.

BlessMyLife.org

I received an e-mail worth sharing with you from my good friend's Rob & Alexis Duffin. Together Rob and his wife have created an uplifting website about the daily miracles in our lives. (As a studio engineer Rob's worked on several of my recordings. I appreciate his optimism.) www.blessmylife.org

To Our Friends:

We were recently exposed to yet another website that provides people with an outlet for blogging about negative life experiences. Though the intent of that site is meant to be humorous, it only increased our desire for a medium that inspires positive thinking. Blessings seem to be more abundant when we recognize them with gratitude.

We are excited to introduce our site, Bless My Life, Where Miracles Are a Daily Occurrence (www.blessmylife.org).

We have created this site to provide you with a place to share your daily miracles and blessings. We hope that by providing you with a place to share your daily, life-enhancing moments that more of these moments will be recognized in all of our lives.

We’re excited to have a positive force for good in the world and we invite you to be a part of it!

Love, Rob and Alexis Duffin
www.blessmylife.org

A Father's Message

When I get the call for a heart my wife Lynnette or Dad will blog updates and share insights. But for now, I asked my Dad to recall his memory of my first heart surgery and contribute to my blog. I should note that although Dad is a professional journalist for the last three decades this is a personal message. In his career he's been fortunate to interview great men and women.

The top photo is with my three older sisters at Dad's broadcasting studio. The bottom photo is in the Garden of Gethsemane with former LDS church President Spencer W. Kimball at Jerusalem in 1977.

If you want to be inspired by a classic documentary watch one of the first features my Dad did in the late 70s early 80s called The Marathon. Thirty years later he still has people commenting that his story motivated them to get in shape and run. I posted it at http://youtube.com/livingforeden

Dad is one of my best friends. I'm blessed to have him when so many don't have that in their lives. And I'm thankful he would take the time to share his memory.

Dear Paul,

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about your remarkable, even miraculous life, especially since your 36th birthday a few weeks ago. Well do I remember that spring day in 1973 when mom went into labor and we rushed to the hospital for your birth. The late night delivery at LDS Hospital, which I was able to observe, was routine, and I was thrilled to have a son, after having three daughters come into our home.

Our lives changed dramatically a few hours later, though, when I was awakened from a deep sleep at home by mom calling to let me know “there is a problem with the baby.” I made arrangements for your sisters and rushed to Primary Children’s Hospital, where you had been taken as a so-called “blue baby.” I met you, and a team of medical personnel led by Dr. George Veasy, coming off an elevator and en route to a medical procedure to determine your malady. Fortunately, I was able to get them to allow me a few minutes alone with you. Your Grandpa Layton and I were directed to a nearby closet where we found some privacy in order to give you, in accordance to our beliefs, a priesthood blessing. Then you were off.

It didn’t take Dr. Veasy long to learn that you had a severe congenital heart defect and that immediate surgery would be needed to keep you alive. You were rushed into surgery before you were a day old for what we were told was a shunt that would allow you to get enough oxygenated blood for your malformed heart to keep you alive.

It worked, and here you are 36 years later. It’s quite remarkable, really, when you consider that you weren’t expected to survive a year, let alone through childhood and beyond into puberty. Yet, you constantly defied the odds. And yes, here you are - a very productive, successful adult who has had a significant impact on countless people throughout the world. Moreover, you’re a loving husband and doting father.

I’ve thought about this in the context of the many CHD parents who follow your blog. Somehow, I hope they can find hope in your story, realizing, of course, that medical science is far more advanced than it was when you were born. Indeed, CHD, though serious, doesn’t always mean doom and gloom. There is always hope. Our hope was that you could be kept alive long enough for advances in medicine that would allow you to overcome your next crisis. It seemed such advances always came. And now we await the next step in your miraculous life. We still have great hope . . . as well as an abiding faith that all will be well. Surely, the miracle will continue.

Love you! Dad

Say a Prayer this Valentine's for the Cardiac Kids

(Picture: 1st baby photo after I recovered from heart surgery at 22 hours - 1973)

In the past 6 months, since I was listed for a new heart, my wife and I have read other related blogs. It's sobering to see so many ‘cardiac kids’ or children with congenital heart disease. Some of these sweet souls have had transplants. Others are waiting. There have been miracles, struggles, and loss of life.

It’s inspiring to interact with a few of these families. I’m sure several share my medical team at Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City, Utah. It’s a wonderful staff of experts who are passionate in their work to save lives. But, more importantly to me, the cardiology and transplant staff has a peaceful, caring spirit about them.

Although I am fully aware of the many adults in my same shoes I would hope they'd agree with me when I admit that living 35 years is a great blessing and an honor. I hope to have many more years. I have a daughter who needs a father. But, my heart is crying out for these ‘cardiac kids’ that they might have a chance to enjoy this beautiful world. Just as badly as I want to live for my daughter I want these sons or daughters to live for their parents.

Several months ago, while I was staying in the hospital with my health declining, I remember being discouraged with life and my situation. And although I struggled mentally, I said a quiet prayer. Moments later I recalled something I heard from a man I greatly admire. He said, “Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward. Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn… Hope has the power to fill our lives with happiness. Its absence—when this desire of our heart is delayed—can make ‘the heart sick.’” (President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Member of the LDS Church First Presidency) Upon remembering this message I regained my optimism and felt peace again.

This Valentine’s weekend as we think of hearts I invite you to join with me in remembering these ‘cardiac kids’ and their families. Say a prayer for them. I’ve added links to many of their blogs over on the right side.