Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

      I got the honor to write my dad's obituary.  He did not want one but we wanted to celebrate his life.  Below is a copy of what I wrote.
Myron Ray Nalder, son of Joseph and Helen Williams Nalder.  Born January 25, 1938 in Ogden, Utah and died December 13, 2017 in Las Vegas, Nevada.  Myron was the oldest of four children.  He was raised in Ogden, served a LDS mission in the Brussels/France Mission, and married Linda Blackham on March 29, 1970.  After Linda’s passing, he married Gigi Johnson on October 25, 2008.
Dad did not want an obituary, but it would be so “uncouth” to dismiss such a character without some sort of commemorative tribute. So just as you would start all our family trips with the roll call, “Fire One!”  Well here comes “fire two, three, and so forth.”  This is a tribute to you dad from all your children.
You were a scholar of books and loved to read.  You reveled in expanding your vernacular and imposing it on your children. 
You were a fine connoisseur of cars with an affinity towards the Ford Tarus, especially the ones with the weakest of transmissions.
You loved listening to classical music and working in the yard.  If there was ever a house or yard project, you had a roll of duct tape nearby to do the job.
You had no time for ignominy for you loved dancing in the grocery store to elevator music or whistling “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” out loud for all to hear. 
You had a fashion sense that would rival any designer.  You sported hot pink pants long before the color “pink” became cool to wear.  Your festive tradition of wearing a green and red plaid wool suit to church around Christmas time set you a bar above the rest.  But I think the favorite was the “hang loose” clam diggers you wore while doing yard work.  Those pants just screamed “Myron.” 
If you could surround yourself with food, the staples would be nuts, cherry cordials, big orange circus peanuts, Necco wafers, nips, ice cream, and an occasional drink of “scuzz.”
During the bitter cold Utah winters, you kept the basement fire stove going even to the point where the sides glowed orange and the room was too hot to enter.
As your daughters got older and more “fair,” you often told them to blacken a tooth and put a brick on their heads to keep the boys away. 
“How are my babes! How are my babes!” Is what you would say when you wanted to know how your grandchildren were doing.  When the grandchildren came to visit, you would take them in your arms and go outside to have them shake the trees.
If a birthday slipped your mind a time or two, we always knew you loved us. You taught us that “wisdom is more precious than rubies,” and to be “heavy on the love.”
You will be missed but your legacy will continue to thrive through 6 children, 19 grandchildren, and one wife.  You will be laid to rest at a graveside service in Farmington, Utah Friday, December 22, 2017 at 11:00 am. 

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