by Amy Miller Amundsen, daughter of Minerva – Sarah

I was only five when Grandpapa died, but since it was a very exciting occasion when he came to our home or we went to visit him, these memories are very sharp.

I remember him stopping to see us once when Aunt Alice was with him. She was wearing a dark tailored suit and a large beautiful hat. Because of her arthritis, she was walking with crutches. Grandpapa gave us all peppermint candy.

I remember visiting him in the Beehive House when he was confined to his upstairs bedroom. He was in a bathrobe sitting in a big chair and had someone reach a box down from the top of a wardrobe, which contained the candy.

The final memory was seeing him lying in State in his Temple robes. We had been to see him during the day and that evening Mama and Papa were going up again, and I can still see her as she stood at the top of the stairs to leave, wiping a tear from her eye. I love that tender memory.