How Easily Things Go Untold

Stewart Ross Lemmon

Stew Lemmon, I'd love to know why this picture was taken, and why my dad is all dressed up like an indian chief.

Tami Lemmon, Stew Lemmon, Kyle Lemmon

Krystal riding Roxie with Dad in the Hooper backyard. 

Stew and Krystal and Reuben the dog.

A Sunday afternoon, Krystal and Stew Lemmon

Many things have collided to inspire this post.

1- My Uncle Scott, my dad's older brother, died earlier this week. I didn't know Scott very well, he liked always to keep pretty much to himself. But he would email back and forth, and he always sent me a Christmas card, every year, even since I've been married. When I was in high school he used to come to all my softball games drinking his coffee, smoking a cigarette and wearing neon shorts so short that his cheeks hung out in the back. My teammates would always point and whisper and wonder who "that guy" was. But I was always so proud that he wanted to come watch me play. I knew he was there partially because he liked baseball, but mostly because he knew my dad never missed a game when he was alive, and coming in his place was Scott's way of doing what he could to support our family, to make sure I had someone at the games cheering me on. Scott didn't want a funeral, and he asked to be cremated. And while I respect his wishes for no one to "make a fuss", I would have liked the opportunity to celebrate his life, and get to know him a bit better. 

And it all just makes me think about how my dad's family is all silently slipping away, one by one, first Papa Lemmon, then my dad, then my Grandma Lemmon. Lee, my dad's oldest brother died a few years ago, now Scott....and let's be honest my dad's sisters aren't far behind. The oldest one is in her 80s.

This branch of the family tree has a complex and colorful history. And because of that it seems like the people who know the stories that are living are keeping them half covered up. Like they don't want to expose them because the younger generation might some how think less of them for being human.

I don't think anything I learned about my Grandma Lemmon could make me think less of her. She was one of my most favorite people on this planet. I know she had a hard life. I admire her for doing as well as she did, and for the love she showed to everyone around her along the way.

But I think knowing would help with understanding. Maybe we could finally understand why my three aunts dislike each other so much they won't even talk to each other. Maybe we'd understand why Grandma Lemmon asked not to be sealed to any of her 4 husbands. (And maybe some day we'll be able to figure out how it is that she ended up sealed to ALL four of them?) Maybe if I understood more of how my dad was raised, I could understand why he raised us the way he did.

2- My sister-in-law asked me for a sample of my dad's handwriting. So I've been leafing through his missionary journal, and that lead me to leafing through the binder  where I keep a printed copy of all the talks he gave when he was a high councilman. He shares a lot of his personal history and life experiences in his talks, so when he died, I printed out copies and made binders for me and my mom and my three brothers.

And as I'm reading the things that my dad wrote, again, I am struck by all the stories and things I barely know. The people he talks about are real people who I've met, and who mean something to me. But to my kids....their Papa Stew is just a story, and his parents and siblings are just a shadow of a story. They aren't real for my kids. And it makes me so sad. No matter what kind of stories I tell, or how many times I try to explain things....my step-dad is their "real" (real as in the one thy know in real life) grandpa. And my dad is just this person that they sometimes hear about, and know is my dad, but that knowledge is sort of hazy because they have a hard time wrapping their heads around death and remarriage and step-families.

I don't know how to make it be any different. But I do know that I don't want things to get lost. So, today I feel to put down some of the words of my father. I don't know all the answers about what kind of details fill in the gaping holes. I have so many questions. But I want what I do know to stay alive. And maybe somebody who has been looking at a bare family genealogy chart that isn't anything but names, will someday will read this and find pieces of answers at least, about real people who lived their lives the best they could and had stories to tell.

I want to start with my dad's own testimony. This comes off the first page in his mission journal:

"All of my life I have been a Rebel. I was born in the church but rebelled against it at an early age. I was never active and I just didn't believe it. I had the same questions that most boys have about life but I sought the answers in science not religion. In spite of my beliefs at that time I had a deep sense of destiny which drove me to find out who I was etc. It was not until my senior year in high school. I was put into Mike Steoger's seminary class. At first I tried to contend with him on points of doctrine but he, knowing my impassioned mind, would give me books to read and scriptures to study. Gradually I gained an intellectual testimony but not spiritual. He told me that until I prayed I would just stagnate where I was and couldn't progress. Praying was hard for me, I was "embarrassed". What finally motivated me was when Mike gave me the responsibility to teach the class the next day. I prayed for help so I wouldn't teach this class that I loved so much the wrong things. The help came and it was a start to a long, hard, road to gaining a testimony." -Stewart Ross Lemmon

Now, I want to continue with a little bit more of his life story. These pieces might be all over the place, but it's the best I can do with what I have.

"Perfect Love Castest Out Fear. Brothers and Sisters, I ask for your indulgence as I broach an uncomfortable subject. Fear. I am not speaking in the context of being "God-fearing". I'm talking about what makes us afraid. The fears that alter our behavior......My earliest memories of real fear are perhaps familiar to some of you too. I remember lying awake in my bed at night as a little boy and hearing a drunken father threaten my mother. I remember being abandoned by that father and fearing that my mother would abandon me too. We learn real fear real early.......1 John 4:18 says "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.".....What happens to our fear when love enters in? Along with the fearful times in my childhood, I also remember the times my mother visited my bedroom to assure me that, no matter what happened, she would always love me and never leave me. Because of that love, a frightened little boy was able to go back to sleep and find peace in a troubled world." 

This next one is long, so I scanned it instead of trying to retype all of it. Also, since it was several pages long, and I'm only wanting to focus on the family history part here, I took out all the bits where he was sharing other stories that aren't his, or where he was quoting scriptures or apostles. I know. That's all good stuff too, but right now I'm just wanting the family history portions.  This is my dad talking about my Grandma Lemmon's life.

This is from the same talk about covenants as the pieces above, but I skipped a big chunk, sorry if it doesn't flow.

The next part I'm going to share is a blip from a talk  on patriotism my dad gave in July as a high councilman. It's just a small story, some other day I'll post the whole talk, because it's really good. In this blip, my dad mentions his dad. I just wanted to make a note here that the "Dad" he is referring to is his adoptive father Earl Lemmon. Not his birth father Grover Thompson, the abusive drunk mentioned in the stories above. The "two sons" mentioned are Scott Lemmon and Tex Lemmon.

Maxine Harrison was her maiden name, but I knew her as Grandma Lemmon. 

Earl Scott Lemmon married Maxine when my dad was 4 and officially adopted my dad when my dad was around twelve. I know this man as Papa Lemmon. 

Krystal (me), Grandma Lemmon, Papa Lemmon, Jackson, and Stew Lemmon. I think this is at Jackson Hole, WY

Grandma Lemmon, Krystal, Kyle, and Papa Lemmon

Krystal and Papa Lemmon planting pine trees in the Hooper backyard 1988ish

One more from my dad's mission journal, and then I'm done for today. This is towards the end of his journal as he's getting ready to come home.

"I've been reflecting back on my mission trying to get some ammo for my report to the pres and home coming talk. It's funny, I feel more like a war corespondent than a warrior. The true "growth" I've experienced on my mission had been through analyzing the things that I experienced.  A simple 2 minute experience can lead to hours of contemplation and volumes of insights and lessons learned. In that sense then, the most valuable experiences of my mission have taken place in my head, enlightening my mind. I guess that's what a true spiritual experience is: spiritual/intellectual enlightenment rather than physical chills running up and down your back. Mission are important because they give experiences that act as a physical catalyst for spiritual enlightenment. Or maybe my mission just taught me how to use physical experiences to gain spiritual enlightenment. 

When we see something we don't really see it, we see light waves bouncing off of it."