The other day we were visiting my oldest son on his 41st birthday. While I was there I played with his youngest son who was born on my birthday (2006) when I was 60 years old. When I turned 30, 40, 50 years old I didn’t even flitch. But when I looked at that little baby in the hospital at his birth, I realized that when he is 20, his grandpa will be 80. I was devastated!

Today I scanned through the Westwood website and read the bios and looked at the pictures of some of my dearest friends. I really became anxious to give you all a big hug. My mind reaches back as though it was yesterday. I hear some people say they wouldn’t ever want to live the high school days again, but I remember the wonderful friendships and wish I could just spend an hour or two with each of you. It’s kind of like what Morgan Freeman in the movie, Shawshank Redemption, said of his friend, Tim Robbins, “I miss my old friend(s).”

This past year Christine and I built our dream home in Fruit Heights, Utah. It’s not a house on top of a hill but then again I don’t have to climb the stairs to go to bed. Years ago I was told when I thought about building my own home, “David, you can’t build nothing”. Perhaps not then, but these days all I needed was a cell phone to call the contractors as their turn came up.

We have seven wonderful children, who I count as great friends of mine. My best friend is my beautiful wife, Christine. We have 22 grandchildren. We have endured the travails of children/grandchildren growing up in a sometimes not too pleasant world. But I don’t think I’d change a thing (at least not from this vantage point).

We spend a evening a week as Docents (storyteller/tour guide is my definition) at the Museum of Church History in Salt Lake City. When we retire (hopefully in a year or two), we’d like to spend some time living for short periods of time in different parts of this wonderful country whose history we have enjoyed.

If you ever come to Utah, give us a call. There’s always something in the cupboard to share and you’ll find a friend who will probably will remember something great about you; even if it’s not told exactly the way it happened.