Saturday, August 15, 2015


Two hours of sleep, two hours of wakefulness, that's how Wednesday's night went. When the second round of wakefulness occurred I had a "morning song" running through my head. I knew it was from Taylor. These are the words that came:  

"...but 'till that day, I'll be your man and love away your troubles if I can."

It was from a Glenn Yarbrough song called THE WORLD I USED TO KNOW. Here's the whole song if you want to listen to it. Click here.

I knew that he was telling me he would help me through the rest of my life, being there when I needed him. He always wanted to know how he could help me. 

Not all the words came, just those few because they were relevant. "...I'll be your man and love away your troubles if I can." 

He always said about himself, "I'm you boy, Momma." Oh how I miss my boy. 

Here's the rest of that stanza:

"Some day the world I used to know
Will come along and bid me go
Then I'll be leavin' you behind 
For love is just a state of mind
But 'till that day, I'll be your man
And love away your troubles if I can

"But 'till that day I'll be your man
And love away your troubles if I can"

Thank you, my boy.

Thursday, August 13, 2015


 Writing on Taylor's casket.
Taylor's children, too young to lose their father. 

Taylor Watson Snyder
Taylor, age 24--he died at age 43
We buried Taylor’s body three days ago. It’s alone, in a steel coffin with everyone’s last words written all over it with magic markers. We buried him at East Lawn Cemetery in Provo. All that is there is a temporary headstone in the ground, with his last name spelled wrong. The flowers that covered the coffin were made of gerbera daisies in bright colors. It was beautiful. The deer, and perhaps the rabbits too, are snacking on it. It’s an expensive midnight treat for them and is fitting. Taylor always shared whatever he had.
Here's his obituary. Click here.

Some of the family has found peace—a feeling of peace washed over Trent when he got my first phone call, even before he knew what was wrong. Some are grieving. I have gone through every stage of the grieving process several times. Mostly I cry.

Who was this boy (of 43 years) that we buried on Saturday? Besides his extreme loneliness and sadness he was usually a joyful person, somebody unlike anyone I have ever known. He was a boy whose great humor covered up something. He once told his dad he never felt worthy. He set the standards too high. He was worthy. Worthy of our love and worthy of the love of countless others. 

He was bright and often had an unmistakable testimony of the Savior. He helped Phil give me a blessing once as I was suffering from depression I had had for several months. After the blessing Taylor asked to talk to me privately. He told me, “You don’t have to suffer this, Mom. The Savior has already suffered it for you.” The next morning I woke up and the depression was gone.

Mostly Taylor loved. He loved deeply and completely. He also forgave. No matter what was done to him he forgave. Who was this extraordinary individual?

He was my son.

I know that one day I will die and he will be there, with his sweet smile and open arms, and all will be well.

I hope I can disguise my grief from the world and the rest of the family until then, because I don’t want them to know, I want them to see me being happy and loving them, because I do. But always, for Taylor, I will grieve.