Days 2017

Days 2017

Saturday, August 5, 2017

God loves Scott Haynes

I don't particularly want to write about my thoughts about my Dad's death, but I feel like I wanted to share a few things since we eventually print this blog up into a sort of family journal.

I had just finished up a week at Girls' Camp (and in my delicate condition), and had showered, napped, and gone for my monthly checkup at the OB.  I was finishing up the smoky camp laundry.  Leslie took an alarming phone call that my Dad was having a heart attack.  She handed the phone to me (I think Mom had thought that Leslie was me.)  Mom gave me the panicked message and told me to "please hurry" as she got off the phone--I knew she was really upset because she meant the ambulance.  I kind of sat there stunned and told Mark and Leslie that we would wait to tell the kids until we learned more.  I prayed and went back to my folding and actually felt pretty calm about it--that Dad would get the help he needed and that he'd probably need some sort of surgery and things would work out.  Mark's Dad had a heart attack several years ago and that is what happened to him.  People have heart attacks all the time.

A while later I took a call from Darcy that Dad hadn't made it.  Mom got on the phone and I reassured her that I was calm and not going to scream on the phone (Dad had some pretty horrible phone calls that he had to go through when my Grandma died--I think the phone calls alone scarred him terribly.)  Mom had calmed down (at least she sounded that way) and gave me a summary of events.  I also learned more details when we met together the night before the funeral.  She told me that Dad had been in his favorite chair, that Darcy and Brooke and their kids were there, that the kids noticed that he was making some strange noises ("teasing") and alerted the adults.  He was unresponsive so they pulled him to the floor and began CPR.  Mom also attempted this but was shaken so badly that she couldn't get a breath and Darcy, who is a charge nurse, sent her out.

Apparently they were able to fully revive him (I guess he yelled, etc.) three times, but he kept slipping away.  Eventually he squeezed Brooke's hand and kind of pushed Darcy off and was gone.  By that point his ribs had been broken and I think they said he stroked, and Mom feels like it was a choice that he probably made.  He has always been a Do-Not-Resuscitate that I can remember, so at least we knew his wishes on that point and the ambulance crew didn't put him on life support.  Grandpa and Grandma Heagy were also quickly on the scene, as were our Giles neighbors.  Bro. Jerry Giles was able to give Dad a blessing. 

It was actually really a miracle that Darcy and Brooke were there at all--God's handiwork is always in the timing.  They are usually home once a year.  Darcy had only been home a matter of minutes.  Mom wasn't by herself with him, nor was he out alone in the field or driving a vehicle.  People say they are "eternally grateful" all the time, but I really mean it when I think about my sisters being there to go through that horribly traumatic experience for the rest of us.  Also that Mom wasn't alone.  I spoke to Darcy just this week and she told me that she was nervous to go back to work and to have to do CPR on someone else again.  She has now, a few times, and she said it has actually been an unexpectedly good and healing thing--reassuring her that they did everything right--everything that they were supposed to do.  So, maybe it was important for her to be there, personally.

As far as leading up to the attack, the day before he had dental surgery.  Anesthesia always makes him quite sick.  He had said that he felt terrible but that he didn't want to go to the doctor--the surgery was masking some of the possible warning signs.  Plus he hates doctors and always has.  I kind of feel like he got his way.  He would have hated dealing with some of the repercussions of heart surgery/stroke/or a combination of those things other health problems that come with age (diabetes?  Can you imagine my very ornery Dad living with diabetes? or dementia or Alzheimers?)  It reminds me of his Mom who told me more than once that she wanted to be wheeled into the street before any of that happened.  She died in her sleep at 73.  No, he probably said, Strike Me Down with a Full Head of Hair.

So, when we got the news, we gathered the kids back up from their beds and told them that we had some bad news.  They asked if it would make them cry and I said, yes.  They all looked pretty worried but I think they all thought it was something to do with the baby, that maybe we had lost the baby since I had just been to a checkup.  They were surprised that it was about my Dad.  And they did cry, even Luke, more than I thought he would.  I was pretty calm delivering the news and glad that we told them before bed so they could sleep off some of the shock and grief.  I told them that Papa had just won the lottery on easy ways to die, and that he had finished the race (of mortal life).  Cooper quipped, "I never thought HE'D win the race."  And we all laughed just a little bit and started to heal.

I warned the kids that I would be crying a lot off and on for the next while, and that it was ok to cry, but the next morning I felt like my body was doing something besides grieving.  One side was really uncomfortable.  It was a familiar pain--like maybe the ligaments holding the baby on that side were taking a lot of strain--but it just kept getting more and more distracting.  I asked Mark and our good neighbor Brooks to give me a priesthood blessing--partly because of our loss and partly because I just hurt so bad.  Soon afterward my back also seized up to the point that I fell to all fours and had to vomit from the pain.  It occurred to me that I might be in pre-term labor--that some women have back labor.  I had just had a major shock and also had been camping for a week--who knew what all that stuff would do to me?  The weird thing was, I knew the baby was fine and kicking, and also that I wasn't contracting.  The pain just felt like labor--constantly.  I decided to have Mark take me into the Labor and Delivery for a stress test.  (Much cheaper and more relevant than an ER trip anyway.)

To our complete surprise, when they got me settled and all checked, they told me that odds were good that I was having a kidney stone.  We both laughed, never having encountered such a thing.  Seriously?  At a time like this?  Bring on the pain meds!  (Which really didn't even help that much, other than making me a bit sleepy.  I thought morphine was supposed to be big guns.  At one point I only half jokingly asked for an epidural instead.)  They kept me overnight and the pain disappeared suddenly somewhere in the middle.  I hadn't passed it though, so a few days later the doctor and I discussed what to do.  He told me that the stone could bother me off and on for the next month or so, but it wasn't dangerous and I was welcome to medicate at home.  Which didn't sound that great, especially all those drugs for the baby.  Also the "at home" part wasn't accurate--I was about to be in a 9 hour car ride, both ways, and at a funeral.  Also other things later in the month.  A procedure would also have many possible complications, but hopefully those wouldn't happen.  The doctor said, "Well, since you're going to Antarctica, we might want to take action."  Then, as a sweet and important deal breaker, he said to me, "My mother's funeral was one of the most important meetings of my life."  I agreed.  He did the scope the next afternoon, found the stone, and was able to avoid stents and other painful complicating factors, so I basically felt normal in a few hours, other than a sore throat from the anesthesia.

I don't know why the timing was the way it was on that--so crazy.  My bishop texted me his shock and awe and asked what they could do to help.  I said, "Laugh and Pray".

This might be a twisted way to think about it, but I know I will have an easier time mourning my Dad than my siblings because I have already lived out of the house for twenty years.  I have practice being apart.  Also because I have a new baby to think about .  Also because I feel like the horribly frightening months we went through with Luke and his congenital heart condition and probable short life-span were actually a much more difficult trial for me.  So maybe this high degree of physical suffering was something I needed to go through at that time, to be united in a weird way, with the suffering the rest of my family was going through.  I know, strange, but I kept thinking of that while I was in the hospital.  Like I was paying my dues since I couldn't be up there planning the funeral and taking care of my mom, etc. with everyone else.

We were able to come up to Montana the evening before the funeral.  It was good to see everyone and talk things out for awhile that night.  Jake shared that he had a really unusual situation come up at work that allowed him to take a last fishing trip with Dad.  He testified to my kids, "Heavenly Father is in Charge."  All of us had talked to him on Father's Day, including Luke, who let slip the baby's name.  (A strange coincidence is that I told my grandma Leslie's name before Grandma died, in our last conversation, and no one else knew.)  I was actually steamed at Dad from what I think was our last conversation, or one of our last, because he chewed me out for missing Cooper's home run, giving me his "Family First" spiel that I've heard about 800 times since I became YW Pres.  (We were at a BBQ just a few blocks away from the game.  And I did bring Cooper a nice cheeseburger a few minutes after the hit.)  Darcy said she was also mad at him because in their last conversation he told her she looked fat or pregnant.  Wahahaa.  Typical Dad.  Probably my favorite quote from the funeral was, "Dad had a way of making people comfortable...and UNcomfortable."  So true.  And often we needed that.

The funeral was really good.  And completely packed.  We were really surprised by all the people, many who traveled a long way to come.  Also from all the notes, cards, flowers, well wishes, etc., from people we never would have expected.  Really touching and made me want to do better to 'mourn with those that mourn'.   Dad always said he didn't want a funeral (too bad)--I wonder if he thought no one would come?  He was wrong. 

I got to sit by mom.  (Finally I could do something helpful.)  Uncle Gib spoke and Jake really bit the bullet and was able to also speak.  I know it was really hard for him--Dad was also his best friend--but Mark told me when I heard he was speaking, "You know, he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn't."  I've included his talk at the end of this post so we can have those stories.  I also remember before the funeral standing at the coffin with my siblings, adjusting Dad's white clothes, and I accidentally leaned heavily on the edge of the coffin and thought--"oops!  That could've been really bad!" before we closed the lid together.  One of our old neighbors at the viewing told me pointedly, looking at my brothers and sisters and I, with our families, that Dad had "raised a fine crop."

I think the most meaningful part of the funeral for me was the song that mom chose to have Bill and Spencer Pearson sing.  The Pearsons, especially Bill, have been friends with Dad forever, and also sing at every function we can get them for because they are so, so good.  (Bill sang a slightly modified rendition of "She's a Lady" at my wedding reception that still makes Mark laugh.)  Mom said she was having a hard time choosing a song, and then this one that the Mormon Tabernacle sings, called, "Homeward Bound", came into her mind.  And that Dad had told her something like, "Oh that's a beautiful song for a funeral.  So sad, but beautiful."  The lyrics were just SO PERFECT for HIM.  And that they were being sung, in tribute, by two farmers who could stand in his stead and voice those words, from him, to all of us.  Even changing some of the words to "the grain is in the bin", with a twinkle in their eyes, just for Dad.  He was right; it was beautiful.
In the quiet misty morning When the moon has gone to bed, When the sparrows stop their singing And the sky is clear and red, When the summer's ceased its gleaming When the corn is past its prime, When adventure's lost its meaning - I'll be homeward bound in time. Bind me not to the pasture! Chain me not to the plow! Set me free to find my calling And I'll return to you somehow. If you find it's me you're missing If you're hoping I'll return, To your thoughts I'll soon be listening, And in the road I'll stop and turn Then the wind will set me racing As my journey nears its end And the path I'll be retracing When I'm homeward bound again. Bind me not to the pasture! Chain me not to the plow! Set me free to find my calling And I'll return to you somehow. (softly) In the quiet misty morning When the moon has gone to bed, When the sparrows stop their singing I'll be homeward bound again.
I was extremely pleased for Dad's sake that we ended right on time and kept it to an hour.  He hated long funerals.

The boys, who were really struggling with missing their Papa, were able to ride on 4-wheelers for the funeral procession, which was a great distraction for them.  Dad would have been all for it.

Here are some pictures from the funeral and after.
The boys branded the casket with the Haynes brand.  Grandpa Happy's Jack's casket was also handmade by this same casket maker.  Really gorgeous.

 One thing I thought was sweet was that I was getting my flower to put on the casket, Aunt Kelly handed me extra, with "Baby's breath for the baby."

There was a lot of great beef, dessert, food, etc. at the funeral.  Someone, tongue in cheek, brought KFC.

 Here we are.  Baby bump and all.  I was happy that Dad was listed as having "Fifteen and a half" grandchildren.  Several people came up to me at the funeral exclaiming, 'You're the half!"

We laughed about this picture afterward because Darcy looks like an amputee that we are holding up.  Nice.

That night, with so many relatives in town, Mom hosted a BBQ to be able to continue visiting with family and to thank them for coming.  She has done a great job confronting the change, and it was evidenced that night in her good humor of "door prizing" off some of Dad's favorite groceries that she doesn't want to eat.  Thousand Island dressing, etc.  Macy won a gallon can of ketchup.  "I hate ketchup!"  We had to take a picture of her legacy.

We also spent a relaxing day at the lake the following day, also with cousins.  It felt good to sit with mom and talk.  We returned home the next day to regroup a little bit before our regularly scheduled trip back to Montana.

Grieving has been an interesting process.  I have felt really blessed with an extra measure of peace and comfort, right from the start.  Almost like a buffer.  So thankful for the Holy Ghost, also known as The Comforter.  It is just still all very unreal to me, like when I come across the copy of the funeral program in the drawer.  I just wasn't expecting him to go so soon.  I don't think he was expecting to either--he was a pretty lively guy, and his grandparents lived to their nineties.  That anger part of grieving was there, "Really Dad?  62?  Really?"  but it went away soon.  (Mark's mom also passed at 62).  I think I am to the part that will last several years, where I have a memory of Dad, or a thought about Dad, and cry about it.  Luke asked me a couple weeks afterward, "Mom, why do you cry so much?"  I told him because pregnant ladies cry a lot.  He got a knowing smile and asked me, "'Cause it's so exciting??"

I honestly cried buckets over my last pound of hamburger.  It went into the pot of chili, and I asked Mark, only half jokingly, if we could toast the bowls like they were goblets of fine wine.  He probably rolled his eyes at me but said whatever I wanted.  I figured Dad was probably rolling his eyes as well so I quit my blubbering.

A couple of nights ago I dreamt that Dad pulled my car out of a ditch with a rope and his bare hands.  (This never actually happened.)  I woke up and cried and remember how very physically strong and powerful my Dad was, lifting bales and pulling calves and tightening fences.  I'm sure I will have many thoughts like this.  Some of the most comforting thoughts, though, will be thinking about my Dad, with his personality and interests, on the other side.  All the things he must be learning and seeing and doing that he has always wondered about.  I know he REALLY LOVED his mission as a young LDS missionary, and I bet this new chapter of his life has some great similarities to that.  So glad I know that death is just a stepping stone.  I've also felt a great love that God has for my Dad, just thinking about his life and the circumstances of his death, and all that is in store for our family together forever.  Looking forward to the future, and miss you Dad. 
Jake's Funeral Talk:
Thank you to all you participated in the program.
Uncle Gib
Thank you to Bill and Spencer. Bill you were one of Dad’s dear friends he loved to hear you sing.  [I think he or someone mentioned here that Dad preferred Bill in his Elvis suit.]
Thank you to all that came to show support to the Haynes Family and pay respects to my dad. Especially thank you to all that have called stopped by, dropped off food, offered to help on the farm, texted or sent a Facebook message. There has been overwhelming support from family and friends and I speak for my mom and the rest of my family when I sincerely say thank you and we love and appreciate you.
Dad did not want a funeral but because of the unexpectedness of the tragic event we as a family felt we needed some closure. My mom and dad always told us kids “you can do hard things.” Well this is hard but we know that in the book of Job we read that we shouted for joy when Gods plan was revealed. This is the last thing I would want to be doing today and in time I will fully understand the lord’s timing of this event. I take comfort in knowing that there is a plan and the lord is in charge. I know my dad would want all of us hear today to have a few last laughs at his expense. He would want good stories to be told and laughs to be shared amongst friends. There are too many stories and too many of you to mention by name but know that Dad loved and appreciated all of you. That’s why we are encouraging you to stick around after the funeral and eat some CHICKEN with us. If dad knew we even thought about serving chicken he would haunt us forever. So actually we are eating the canceride cow! Dad loved to tease company when they commented on his beef that it was the old canceride cow!
 I will say if dad knew we planned a funeral he would have threatened all of us children that he was going to take us to the Hutterite colony. I felt like that was a pretty empty threat until one day Darcy found out it wasn’t an empty threat. I still wonder what she was thinking as they drove up to the colony by Choteau. Darcy do you still stay in contact with any of the hutterites?
Dad was a great man. Most of us are here today because he touched our lives in one-way or another. Usually that meant through some fun witted humor and some genuine teasing. I actually thought when my dad got to the other side he himself would teasingly greet his friends and family there, “Why didn’t I die before I had to get that tooth pulled.” I would even bet Happy Jack in his joking matter would have exclaimed “I feel wonderful.” As he always said.
My boys were really close to their Papa when they were little we worked for Papa in the summers. So I asked them what they would want me to tell others about their Papa and I have centered my remarks around their thoughts. Almost instantly Jaxon and Bridger said we would want people to know that any time we were with Papa it was a good and fun time. We were always doing fun things. In fact my boys and all the grand kids had a theme song with their Papa. Sweet Caroline any time we would set out on an adventure we would crank up a CD blasting that song as loud as we could and we would all sing along. “Sweet Caroline Bum Bum Bum Good Times Never Seemed So Good.”  It became such a tradition that pretty much every vehicle he owns and I own have copies of sweet Caroline on hand. We keep that song queued up for any adventure we might set out on! So my remarks today will be centered around those GOOD TIMES with Papa!
Speaking of singing my dad was horrible but his mantra was if the people in front of you don’t turn around, your aren’t singing loud enough.”
My dad was good at making others feel comfortable or uncomfortable. One of the ways he tried to put others at ease was to have some sort of little nickname for his friends and family members. Many of you know what I am talking about. If you notice on the program some of these names are mentioned. All of us children had nicknames and this extended to the in-laws.
Speaking of in laws the first to join our family was Mark Day. Right off the bat my dad started calling him rookie. Well we knew this rookie was coming home and would surely want to impress my dad to win the hand of his daughter. So my dad in his way devised a plan to have a good laugh at the expense of his soon to be son-in-law. We were feeding cows up west and knew that there was one gate to open as you entered the field so the day before we went up and stretched the gate so tight it was physically impossible for anyone to open it but we were going to let the rookie have a go at it. So that next morning we were eager to go feeding. We went to jump in Blue Thunder (oh yea dad named all of our vehicles too) Blue Thunder was the trusty old feed truck that that dad spent a lot of time in and cherished because it was such a reliable old truck. Anyways we knew the rookie would want to be as far away from my dad as possible and would surely sit on the outside where he would be forced to have to open the gate. Well I couldn’t believe my eyes as the rookie in his eagerness was already in the truck saddled up next to my dad. Great I was going to be stuck opening the gate our plan was foiled. My dad was as cool as a cucumber and we set off for the gate. About a mile down the road he said Gee I think I have a flat tire. You boys hear that (of course there was nothing to hear) but we said yes. Dad stopped the truck where we all got out to inspect the tire. Dad motioned to us to get back in the truck. Boom the rookie was now on the outside! We pulled into the gate and dad explained to the rookie how the person on the outside opens that gate and how to open it. So the rookie jumps out eager to impress. He strained, he pushed, and he tried different angles all the while we were laughing so hard we were in tears. What a great time. It became a standing joke this name of Mark’s and he really wanted to be promoted. Every time he visited he asked for a promotion. Eventually dad told him when he gave him a grand child he would possibly be upgraded. Along came Leslie and he was upgraded to Maverick. Along the way there has been several demotions to rookie but Mark claims that when dad died he was still at Maverick level.
Back to Blue Thunder for a minute. What a great truck we took it feeding cows, hauling firewood, boating, hunting, fishing, camping and most fondly I remember being pulled behind blue thunder on the sled for what seemed like hours. Dad had an uncanny ability to find the frozen cow turds in the field. What a reliable and faithful old truck!
Next along came Rachel or Rachey Babe. He had another nickname for her but I won’t share it because its not politically correct but it comes from her ability to be able to sell things and make a profit. As I was bringing her home to meet the folks, I am sure he was behind having my mom dress up in a witch costume wig, makeup and all to try and scare her off. He thought that was pretty funny.
Next came Perry. Perry never really liked his nickname because he is a tough daredevil hockey player type but Perry the fairy just comes off so natural. So Rachel and I were coming home or a visit and Darcy wanted us to pick her and her boyfriend up in Idaho so they could tag along and I could help ease the stress of “Dad” well I don’t recall to many pranks being played over the weekend but as usual we had roast beef for lunch on Sunday (We always have roast beef for lunch on Sunday that was dad’s tradition) Well we were taking off that evening and dad said why don’t I make you guys some roast beef sandwiches for the ride. Ok sounds great but I knew dad was up to something….He told me that he put a rubber band in Perry’s sandwich and labeled it. Well he instructed me to call as soon as Perry started chewing on that old rubber band. Well in the rush he mislabeled the sandwich and Rachey babe got the rubber band --a good laugh was had by all. Even though we all consider Perry to be the daredevil in the family he could never keep up with dad. The morning of Darcy and Perry’s wedding dad told Perry just to follow along in his car as they headed for Canada. I think dad not wanting let his daughter go just yet left Perry in the dust. Perry trying to catch up got pulled over just north of Choteau. Of course that turned into a big laugh that Perry was so eager to get married he was going 90 miles an hours and got a ticket.
Along came the brother of Jared. That’s what my dad nicknamed him most people think its because my dad wanted Brooke to marry Jared’s brother but it actually has a scriptural reference. Well dad decided to break him in right by roping a “sick” (of course this was all planned) yearling steer in the corral and handing the rope to the brother of Jared telling him to hang on and don’t let go. Well I can still see Jared taking several laps around the corral. He didn’t let go. Dad also took the opportunity that weekend to have a family work project. He was big into those! Never did I not come home to a few “bottom Bales”!! Thanksgiving/Christmas/Easter always came with a family work project. It was always to work up an appetite according to Dad but usually this meant a job that he didn’t really want to do. We did them anytime some one came home to visit. In fact, I know he had several lined up for this week as some of my siblings were planning to come home. Any ways this family work project was to have the brother of Jared pound a bunch of steel posts. Dad supplied gloves but to this day anytime we go fencing dad brings up how Jared lost all the skin on his fingers trying to impress dad while pounding posts. Dad was glad Jared was going to be a Nurse Methodist as he would say  when really it was a Nurse anesthetist.
Last but not least was Nat ALEE. Dad was pretty nice to her because we were pretty sure after waiting about 15 years this was Dukes only chance… Natalie claims to be an amazing beautician and was planning on cutting Dad’s hair this week. Natalee what some guys will do to get out of one of your haircuts. We all know my Dad was very fond of you and your haircutting skills.
Speaking of hair I know my dad would have been proud to die before he went bald. He liked his curly hair and to him the greatest invention was the sunroof. You see before sun roofs he had to stick his head out the car window to “blow it back” and look cool this could result in a bug or two in the face but with a sunroof you could just raise your head high enough to the open sun roof to really blow it back!
Dad also loved Schwann’s ice cream. He told my mom when they got married they may not always have money but they would always have ice cream—and they always did. He liked as do all the grandkids ice cream in many forms-- in a bowl, in a glass, in a cup, in a float or a cone and especially on our waffles! I don’t know what dad liked more ice cream or Ketchup. Heinz ketchup in fact that’s what I got him for father’s day --several big jugs of Heinz ketchup. Not only did he love the ketchup he liked spilling a little on the edge of the bottle that so when you asked him to pass the ketchup it he would pull the ketchup bottle back getting that little amount on your hand. Such a tease!
He also loved playing trivial pursuit and Jeopardy. He loved to whip us kids and would always ask after beating us how many of us had a college degree or who the only guy in the room was without a degree when he won. Last week when we were over here he was joking how his new memory foam pillow was really improving his Jeopardy skills.
My wife (that would be Rachey Babe) remarked that for Scott, the most important things in life were not things but people. I know that to be true. I know my dad was a firm believer in spelling LOVE TIME. He showed love by spending quality time with each of you. His kids were very important to him. Sunday phone calls were every Sunday even if you had talked to him on Saturday. With many of you, us kids and the grand kids he made sure we have many fond memories of  laughing, joking, fishing, boating, 4 wheeling and of course working together.
We worked hard together. He didn’t cut us much slack even as little kids. Whether it was bottom bales, irrigating, running machinery or working the cows we were expected to get it done. There were many jobs I despised or did not want to do but the one saying I remember my dad always saying after we completed a job was see “that wasn’t so bad” he always said that and we always rolled our eyes but looking back—You know dad “That wasn’t so bad” they were GOOD TIMES we had working together on the ranch and it taught me and my siblings the importance of hard work and dedication. A few weeks ago I left Jaxon and Bridger with my dad for a few days. He had a work project lined up for them. I thought it was probably a little much but knew he would teach them to work. When I returned and saw the completed project and listened to my boys brag about what they had accomplished I was grateful to my dad for planting the seed of hard work in his grandkids.
Speaking of work dad loved his cows and bragged about how much he feed them. He took good care of them. I remember him giving them extra hay on Christmas as a present. How fitting it was to have heart brands!
Us kids remember going boating quite often in the summer in-between irrigation sets.  We loved to go to COWMANURE beach as dad called it! Dad looked forward to getting us kids on the tube so he could really crack the whip with us. I can still see him in that old boat (of course the only one in the boat because he wanted ultimate speed) leaning as hard as he could to make that turn extra sharp and then laughing as us kids passed the boat cracking the whip. The heagy sisters also remember him cutting the motor in the deepest seaweed while they were skiing for a good laugh. Some of the young men in the area remember him for wiping them out so hard on the tube that they lost their shorts. Duke commented that we never had to worry about he sun shining when we went boating because his white legs shined brighter than the sun.
We loved to go to the Big Sky water slides as an end of the summer annual trip. The highlight of the water slides was the tube ride. Before the OSHA declared it dangerous it used to have drop after drop where your tube would get caught in the backwater and the next tube would crash down on top of you at full speed. Dad liked to call himself king of the tube run and the highlight for him was coming around the corner before the biggest drop and seeing his favorite mother in law caught in the back water. I am sure he did all he could to slow his tube before crashing into her. He still likes to talk about seeing her two legs sticking up out of the water in the aftermath.
Dad was always such a tease! He teased all of us but we knew he loved us. When he would see his grandkids teasing or making jokes or hearing about them getting into trouble at school (dress story if Dennis doesn’t share--the time Dad and his buddies had to wear the teacher's dresses because they got their clothes all muddy) he would always say, “He or She is all HAYNES” with a proud gleam in his eye. –Unfortunately I did not inherit this gene.
My dad was always planning the next adventure. In early May he was bugging me about when I was going to be done with work so we could go on an adventure. He really wanted to go 4 wheeling and fishing up at Gibson. One of our annual traditions is to go up there when the lake is at the perfect level and catch a bunch of fish. This year because of some other commitments at work I reluctantly told him it didn’t look like we would make it. He would call and ask if I got out of my commitments. I would say no. He would call again and ask and I would say no but because of a tender mercy of having a meeting get moved (that I was supposed to be at) at the last minute I was able to spend Father’s day weekend with him.  We spent two days with papa fishing, four wheeling and boating. We ate Heinz ketchup on our beef!  I am lucky to have so many great memories spending time with my dad having GOOD TIMES! Rarely those good times didn’t include dad walking around looking for arrowheads no matter where we were. Sort of an addicting hobby of his. He was always so lucky. In fact last weekend there we were and there he was picking up another arrowhead. I will never forget the time we were re-doing the sewer and last house. We had a neighbor over excavating. Dad’s sister Patty was over and came out to inspect the project. Of course she bent down near where my dad was standing and picked up a perfect arrowhead (that she had pulled from her pocket and planted) Dad thought he hit the mother load right in his own backyard. Stop the excavator was the call and he began frantically searching the ground for more artifacts. What a good laugh we had when she told him she planted it. Dad really enjoyed being outside enjoying the country looking for those artifacts. Thanks to all who accompanied him on such adventures.
Whenever we went somewhere with dad as (Uncle Gib) eluded to we would wonder if he was going to put on those hideous overalls. We used to think they were awful until I had kids. As you know kids look pretty good in the Osh kosh overall pants. One day when Jaxon and Bridger were toddlers Bridger was wearing overalls and Jaxon exclaimed hey those are ---PAPA PANTS  the name stuck and they now are known has PAPA PANTS. My three-year-old son JETT doesn’t go to papa’s without a pair of his PAPA PANTS. I was really tempted to where some today but not really. But I hope you grand kids figuratively put on some papa pants and follow in his footsteps he was a good man. He believed in placing place people first. He always said Family first and people over programs. This has been evident in the outpouring of support over the last week from the community. I wanted to share a couple of messages the family received from Papa’s friends. Papa valued his friends and you were all a big part of his life. He enjoyed TIME with each of you.
One friend wrote he was a special and treasured friend. It’s difficult to imagine football, basketball and track season without his enthusiasm and his constant reminders about the next big game or meet and the recaps of the ones we shouldn’t have missed. We’ll miss his hugs, smiles, clean jokes, and many calls just to see how things are going. Most of all we will always remember the example he was of what true friendship really looks like.
One of my childhood buddies wrote-My mom claims he was the best neighbor we ever had. From the day we arrived to the day we left he was there for us. Loaned his trucks to us to haul firewood with, loaned us his tractors really anything we needed. Not to mention for me personally, the times he took me fishing, hunting, to baseball games the things he taught me about work, farming and cattle. He took me boating and to this day I have never heard of anyone refer to a boat motor as a “dirty communist.” He employed me at times and was a big part of my life back then. I didn’t appreciate it back then like I should have but growing up puts things into perspective.
My dad had a couple of favorite cuss words. Communist and if things were really going bad dirty communist. The other word he used quite often was Sun River Ditch. Happy Jack said it, Dad said it and I find myself saying it. I can hear him saying Sun River Ditch we will never get the calf back. Inevitably when moving working cows one would break out and as we got older we would laugh when he would Say Sun River Ditch he will never get that one back and throw his stick in the ground. To this day we got all of them back dad.
Of course dad was a huge Fairfield Eagle fan. He loved to go watch the Eagles and support the youth in the community. He also enjoyed being at many of these games with you.—Good times! That I am aware of even if it meant he had to drive through the night (for the ranch) he never missed any of his children’s games except one. My brother Duke had a divisional basketball game in Malta and it was during caving season in the middle of a real cold snap. He still talks about missing that game but he made every effort he could to listen to it on the radio. He drove around looking for a spot where the radio station would work. He had an idea-he would drive to Fairfield and park his vehicle next to the big grain bins to pick up reception?? It worked! He always supported us kids and was cheering us on. He loved to brag up the grand kids and was looking forward to watching them play sports. Just last week he called and told me Boston went 5 for 5 and Cooper hit a home run. He certainly was proud of them. I know he will have the best seat in the house at all of the grandkids upcoming games.
Not only did he like to whip us college grads in trivial pursuit or jeopardy he like to take us out on the court and try and beat us in horse, pig or lightning. He always won it wasn’t until he had part of his “shooting finger” cut off in the stacker wagon that we finally gained an advantage. However just a few months ago he proudly whipped Jaxon, Bridger and I on our home court.
Dad knew how to liven up the party. One of our family members remarked- Your Dad put the life and fun into a mostly sober family! His teasing, laughter and silly cow jokes will be missed. He liked to tell those cow jokes like what do you call a cow with no legs-Ground beef! Those little funny humors never got old to him. He liked to tell a good story and knew a lot of interesting and random facts. If you didn’t know dad liked to read a lot of books and was pretty sharp. Recently he was telling a story and some the relatives didn’t believe some of the things he was saying so they started “fact checking” him on their smart phones. Well they found out he was right. Dad really liked that and knew his stories were more factual that any smart phone so recently any time there was a questionable story he would shout out someone FACT CHECK that on your smart phone!
Dad was a good friend to us and was a good listener he also had a way to tell you what you needed to hear. I am going to miss the daily 6 a.m. phone calls just to check in and give me advice like “stand in concrete.” When you believe in something. One time when my sister Jackie told him she couldn’t think of any personal weaknesses he promptly explained to her what self-righteousness meant. Jackie I hate to tell you this but I guess listening wasn’t a real strength either. (Being all Haynes I couldn’t resist)
In the New Testament in the book of Matthew Chapter 6 vs. 21 reads-“For where your treasure is there will your heart be also.” Dad didn’t treasure the riches of the world but treasured GOOD TIMES with family and friends. His heart was there. Most recently his treasure was his grandkids. He connected with them as know one else could and as Jaxon and Bridger said whenever we were with him we were having fun. My dad wasn’t big into saying I love you-kind of a Haynes men thing but I can still hear and see him saying it to all his grand kids. When we left last week he was giving he kids hugs and kisses out on the deck (raspberry kisses) which those “All Haynes” kids have referred to as toot kisses he said to them and he has always said as he squeezed and kissed them “PAPA LOVES YOU SO MUCH!” 
Well grandkids I want you to know that Papa loves you so much and will forever. I also would tell you that my dad and your Papa would want you to know that he has total trust and faith in Jesus Christ and recognized him as his Savior and Redeemer and because of that knowledge Papa was a consistent and diligent disciple of Christ his whole life.
Papa knew that by patterning his life after the Savior he would have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost and be in tune to whom and how he could help and serve others. Many of you here today felt this love and that’s what we will miss most about Papa. You could tell how much family meant to him by the amount of time he dedicated to helping his parents Happy Jack and LaVonne on the ranch; spending time with siblings on adventures, being a dedicated husband and provider, by teaching his children to be honest, hard workers and about the treasures found in the gospel of Jesus Christ. He did this through diligent family prayer and scripture study as well as weekly family home evening provided an environment of love at home and an opportunity to nurture young testimonies. Remember Papa spells LOVE—TIME.
Papa’s life was centered around the gospel of Jesus Christ and the knowledge that Families Can Be Together Forever. He took that amazing principle and shared it with others on his mission. As he labored and built a solid foundation for his testimony his mission became a highlight in his life. We all loved hearing him tell stories from his mission and knew he had a deep desire that all his grandsons serve missions as well. He knew it would help them build a stable foundation for their own testimonies as they strengthen their relationship with Christ sharing his gospel.  
When Papa was asked to do something he followed through and put all his effort in. Whether it be a church calling, studying his scriptures, laboring on his mission, being a good husband, father, friend, neighbor and especially a Papa. He knew and believed in God’s plan of salvation and life after death and because of Christ’s atoning sacrifice and resurrection we will ALL see each other again.
I know that if we faithfully follow Christ’s doctrine and stay committed to his teachings we will see Papa again too because families can be together forever. As OUR songs says, “Good times never seemed so good.” My wish is that all of us here today will always remember and hold those GOOD TIMES and memories in your hearts.
Thank you all for coming.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.