Dad Ence

Once, a long time ago, let's say 12 years-ish, I met a girl named Heather Ence. Mostly I call her Inkey, but that's another story for another day. Inkey and I were mission companions in the MTC in June of 1997 because we were both going to be serving our missions in Los Angeles. The moment we met we became bestest friends. I personally believe we loved each other from the first moment we met because we were both so relieved that the other one wasn't some skinny little 90 pound waif that we'd be stuck standing next to for the next two months. However, I think you'll agree that we were both pretty much hotties, anyway:
This was taken in Los Angeles while we were being missionaries. Oh how I miss that skinnier version of me. Anyway, Inkey and I really did become the bestest of friends and after our missions we roomed together while going to BYU. Part of the good news about being Inkey's friend is that her family came with her. I immediately loved her mom and dad the second I met them just like I did Inkey. Maybe it's something in their gene pool that makes you love them best right off the bat. Regardless, of why, I decided that they probably needed a 6th black headed child and they loved me and let me pretend that I was theirs. Inkey and I took many trips down to St. George to visit. My favorite trips were the Thanksgiving ones. Mom Ence makes the best dang gravy I've ever eaten.

On Wednesday I got a phone call from Inkey delivering some bad news. Dad Ence passed away earlier that morning. I was shocked and then very sad. Since then I've spent a lot of time thinking about what he meant to me. First of all, here is a photo:

As you can probably tell, this was my graduation from BYU. Mom and Dad Ence drove the four hours up from St. George and watched me graduate. That's the kind of people they are. You can also probably tell that Dad Ence is in a wheel chair, so you know that trip wasn't an easy one to make. I wasn't able to have any of my family there and it meant the world to me that they were. I don't know if I've ever told them that, but it really was the most special part of that day for me.

I never really met my real dad and my step-dad and I didn't get along, so I loved that Dad Ence let me adopt him, so to speak. What I probably remember the very most is all of the games of Go Fish we played together. Here's what I don't understand about those games...How does a man that doesn't really have use of his arms, beat me 9 times out of 10? For heaven's sake, I was the one that actually controlled his cards, yet he beat me most every time. I'll never get that one. I think it must have been all of his smack talk and insults of my poor playing ability that threw me off psychologically. That's the story I tell myself so my self-esteem doesn't suffer, anyway.

Aside from harassing me, Dad Ence also made me laugh. It cracked me up that when you fed him cookies or crackers, or something smallish like that he liked to have a certain number of them in his mouth at a time. I don't remember the exact numbers, but I believe he liked some in each cheek. He also used to swing his arm up, hit me in the gut and say, "Don't pat the fat!" I still say that if someone touches my belly.

Dad Ence taught me quite a bit about love, humility and patience. I never met a family that loved and cared so much for him and he for they. He spent a lot of years in a body that didn't work and he had to rely on others for his everyday needs. I try to remember the amount of humility and patience he must have had to develop. When I get frustrated with others or upset that I can't do something myself, I try to remember that. I also try to remember the amount of love and patience Mom Ence had all of those years to provide those services. I always said that I hope Mom Ence will put in a good word for me when she gets to the Celestial Kingdom, because she's got a ticket straight there.

I will always cherish my memories with Dad Ence and I wish the whole Ence family peace and comfort. I know they will miss him as he continues to watch over them and care for them from the other side.