Visits from Heaven

My Danish grandmother, Grandma Hendrickson, lived 18 years after her husband died. She

My Grandmother Hendrickson who said her deceased husband comforted her 

was poor and in very poor health during those years, with most of their 10 children to raise alone. She didn’t speak English as well as he had, and she suffered from increasingly more severe anxiety attacks which gradually developed into Agoraphobia. My aunt who lived with her for many years said that sometimes in the most difficult years, Grandmother said the spirit of her husband “visited” her and she could feel his spirit comforting for an hour or so. She never saw him or was able to talk to him, but just feeling his spirit near her calmed and consoled her, and helped her face her troubles more bravely.


One of the times I knew he had planned ahead for me was such a little thing, but it meant so very much. The last four or five months of Ed’s life were very difficult. He was in hospitals and in ICU a lot of the time; he lost 30 to 40 pounds and was very weak. But towards the end, around November and December, they were able to identify one of the infections that had laid him low, and he had got a little bit better. Around Thanksgiving we flew to Los Angeles to consult with his lung specialists there and he perked up a bit. The two weeks before Christmas, he was the best he’d been in six months and he was able to go to Costco and Cabella’s and ride the carts there and do a little shopping.

He kept saying he wanted to buy me a nice dress for our anniversary (which fell on Thanksgiving that year), and later insisted he wanted to buy me a nice outfit for me for Christmas. But there was never time, and he just was never up to it. So it never happened.

Photo of our grandson, James (Elder VanderMeyden)
skyping on Christmas Day

Three days before Christmas he caught the flu and became critically ill. He refused to go into the hospital until he was able to “Skype” with his missionary grandson in Costa Rica (missionaries can call home only twice a year—on Mother’s Day and on Christmas). Ed was able to skype with all his grandchildren and children in Nashville, Tennessee; Issaquah, Washington; and Chicago, Illinois, as well as visit with the children and grandchildren who lived locally. The day after Christmas Ed was too sick to even stand up and my youngest son carried him into the car and I took him to the hospital. The following day he was so sick they had to intubate him and put him on a respirator. He died about 10 days later.

My daughters insisted on was taking me down to my favorite dress store and helping me find a nice dress for the viewing and one for the funeral. They kept reminding me that these were the dresses that Ed had wanted to get me for my anniversary and Christmas, so I was just doing what he wanted. But later I thought I really should not have spent the money on clothes for me when there were so many other expenses to be met.

After the funeral, we were going through Ed’s things and sorting which of Ed’s things to see which things needed to be given to charity and which things other people could use.
My daughter Diana opened a “Mag-light” case in Ed’s drawer and gasped, “Mom, there is money in here.” She counted it and said, “Mom, you won’t believe it but the amount here is exactly what you paid for your dresses, less about $10.00 or $15.00.”

I was immediately suspicious and thought that one of my more well-to-do children had overheard my comments about my regrets about spending the money on the funeral dresses, and had “left” the money to be found as a gift for me. I was blaming the box of money on this child or that child and feeling like they were taking pity on me, when my older daughter, Athena, who lives near us walked into the room.

Here I am wearing one of the outfits 

Ed had bought for me posthumously 

“Oh, you found Dad’s stash of emergency money,” she said. “Before you went to California in November he got some money out of the bank and put it in the “mag-light” box in his drawer. He wanted to leave some emergency money for Bryan (our youngest son who lives in our house with us) but he didn’t want to leave it in the regular places he normally puts it because Bryan then finds an emergency to use it. He put in more than usual because he didn’t know how long you’d be in Los Angeles.”

When Athena counted how much money was in the box she was shocked how closely it matched the amount I had paid for my dresses.

“Well, it looks like Dad left you the money to buy you the dresses he never got to buy you for your anniversary and for Christmas,” Diana said.

You never know when and how Ed’s influence will be felt. Our youngest son, Bryan, was performing as the lead in a play, “Is He Dead” at the local community theater at the time Ed died. The play is a comedy about 

Bryan (left) in the newspaper’s publicity
photo of “Is He Dead?”

death, and funerals, and at one point in the show, Bryan even jumps up on the coffin and dances on it. It was hard for Bryan to perform after Ed’s death so all of the family who were there for the funeral went to the show he was doing for the first time after Ed’s death to support him and let him know we were there for him.

Bryan did really well, and at intermission, we all gathered together, and just as Ed had always done, everyone started critiquing the play and pointing out the best parts of the show. It wasn’t done in a mean spirit—it was just what our family of performers had always done and what Ed had taught them to do! I looked around at them talking about the performance, and I suddenly felt Ed was right there critiquing it right with them—just as he was with all of us seeing Bryan’s show and supporting Bryan in this difficult time.

Diana who sang "I Did It My Way" for Ed

Our daughter Diana is a skilled and talented vocalist and when Ed had planned his funeral he had written that he wanted Diana to sing “I Did It My Way.” Diana had wondered how she could sing it without crying, but she had prepared and prayed that she would be able to get through it; she wanted to sing it like Ed wanted it sung. And so she did. But we all felt as she stood up there singing—perfectly just as he wanted—that Ed was up there holding her and supporting her so she could perform it as he wanted her to. She was not alone up there at the pulpit. He was there with her.

 One last experience that I want to share. Last week I talked to one of Ed’s church friends who usually sat with Ed in the back row of their High Priest Quorum class each Sunday. He was saying how much he missed Ed’s teasing, joking and saying funny things to liven up the class.

“This Sunday in high priest class, we passed around a signup sheet for a work project. Those who could help were instructed to sign their names and phone numbers on the paper,” he said. “But instead of writing their name, someone had just written on the line instead of their name, ‘yes,’ indicating their willingness to help, but not letting anyone know who they were. As I looked at it, I knew that was the type of joke Ed would have done if he had been in class, so I marked him present on the class roll.”

Where do spirits go after they die? I know they are busy in paradise, but I think sometimes, they get a chance to visit with us, to uplift us and to strengthen us—or sometimes, to just joke a little to remind us of them. 

In Memoriam
Edward O. Dayley
4 April 1941-8 January 2015

"Love the Danes"

         Denmark is the land of my heritage. My mother was first generation American and she spoke the Danish language as a child, served us many Danish foods, and shared with us many of the Danish customs she had grown up with. My mother’s father, Peter P. Hendrickson, left America to join the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at 20 years of age; yet he loved his native land, his family and friends there very much. His wife, Kristen A. Mortensen, also a native Dane, also missed her beloved native land and both taught their children about the land of their birth. 

         My mother’s sister, Ruth Hadley, served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Denmark in the 1950s, and my brother Gary  served a mission there from 1961 to 1963. 

Denmark

       Denmark is a land associated with the sea; nowhere in the country are you more than 47 miles from the sea. Surrounding Jylland, the part of Denmark that is connected to Germany, is an archipelago of 483 islands that make up the Kingdom of Denmark. Denmark, like much of Northern Europe, is wealthy, erudite, and liberal. Fewer than 3 percent of its people attend church, and Richard Andersen, a LDS Church Stake President in 1993 stated, “The Church’s biggest challenge in Denmark today is that we are an ungodly country.” Andersen blames the permissive laws passed in the 1960s. “Suddenly our country was affluent and wanted to show the world that our wealth gave us sophistication and understanding. So we passed laws allowing pornography, nudity on beaches, abortion on demand, marriage of homosexuals. Moral barriers fell all around us.”[i]

Gary as a missionary

      Gary’s mission in Denmark during those turbulent years was very difficult. During his two years there he baptized only one individual. One experience in Esberg, a fishing village about the size of Provo, Utah on the West Coast of Denmark, changed Gary’s attitude about his mission, Denmark, and life. 

     Gary had been in Esberg three months and was very discouraged; the missionaries had not taught a lesson or had not been received into a home for months. Gary and his companion wondered if they prayed and fasted more earnestly that maybe someone would listen to their message. They called the mission president for permission to fast; he gave them permission, but only for three days. 

       The first day of fasting was like any other; they tracted without success. The second day of fasting they continued to go door to door futilely. At the beginning of the third day of fasting, they knew their fast would end that night, yet that day was no different. That night they prayed long and hard and received no remarkable inspiration.

My Grandfather Hendrickson

        During the night Gary’s grandfather Peter P. Hendrickson (his mother’s father) appeared to him. Peter, who had grown up in Denmark and given it up only to join the other members of the church in Utah, stood at the end of Gary’s bed. He looked at Gary very solemnly; Gary could hear the silent words his grandfather was saying--that the only way Gary would ever be successful as a missionary was to love the Danish people with all he had and to look beyond their harshness. 

      “Love the people,” Gary's grandfather repeated. “Love the Danes.”

      When Gary’s companion awakened the next day, the companion told of how he had seen the nameplate and bell of a certain home in a dream and felt that it meant something special.

      The two companions prayed, then broke their fast. As they went out, they looked at the different streets carefully. Gary’s companion recognized the street he’d seen in his dream and they walked along it. Then he recognized the bell and nameplate. They had tracted out that area three times previously, but never stopped at the house. They rang the doorbell and a young woman came to the door. She allowed them to come in and talk to them.

      Gary was transferred soon afterwards and he never knew what happened to the woman and her family, or whether they accepted the gospel or not. 

       But the experience with his grandfather changed Gary’s life forever. He grew to love  the Danish people whether or not they invited him in, or accepted his message. He learned to love them unconditionally and appreciate their unique spirit.

       Even after he left his mission, his love for the Danes grew; he promoted everything Danish and Scandinavian he could. He began to celebrate an annual “Lief Ericksen” party on Columbus Day--to celebrate that the Vikings reached America before Columbus. He served as president of the “Sons of Norway” (a fraternal organization representing people of Norwegian heritage–there isn’t a “Sons of Denmark” organization).  He had a Danish foreign exchange student live with his family for a year.

    His daughter went on a mission to Norway and married a man whose family are as staunch in their celebration of their Norwegian heritage as Gary is of his Danish heritage, and Gary and his family have gone to Denmark several times. This fall Gary and his wife will return to Denmark as couple missionaries, and Gary's wife will be the mission nurse.

       Unconditional love is the key in all relationships; true charity that is concerned with the individual and develops a closer association is important. It accepts a person as they are, and loves them anyway. It doesn’t complain that they are not Italians, or Mexicans (or whoever would be easier to convert). Unconditional love doesn't give up if people don't accept the gospel right away, but loves them and accepts them despite it.

        Elder Russell M. Ballard said in October 1988 General Conference address (and probably more recently as well), “I encourage you to build personal, meaningful relationships with your nonmember friends and acquaintances. If they are not interested in the gospel, we should show unconditional love through acts of service and kindness, and never imply that we see an acquaintance only as a potential convert."[ii] Or as my grandfather, Peter P. Hendrickson said, “Love the People.”

---

[i] Florence, Giles: “Sea, Soil, and Souls in Denmark,” Liahona, June 1993, page 36

[ii] Ballard, Russell M.:“The Hand of Fellowship,” Ensign, November 1988,