Grandpa Cobabe

There's one other experience that happened in the past few weeks that I didn't include in my last post. It's a rather personal thing, and it deserved its own post, not just thrown in with all that other stuff. On Wednesday morning, April 13, my maternal grandfather passed away. Frederick William Cobabe passed away peacefully after a couple of severe strokes Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. With the condition he was in following those strokes, having his spirit freed from his body was the best thing for him.

Grandpa Cobabe has been the first person that I have really been close to and known personally that has died. It's an interesting journey that you go on when that happens. Initially, there was just a pure shock effect on Saturday night. I got a call from my mom just as I was leaving for a ward closing social telling me grandpa had had a major stroke. She told me that at that point, we weren't quite sure what was going to happen. They were doing a couple of things to try and remove the clot, and it looked like he may be able, with time, to get all function restored. I went to the social, ate food, and accompanied my friend in the talent show we had, then left to go on a long walk. The snow was falling. It was a great environment for thinking. I just kind of let my emotions wash over me. Then came Sunday, when I left early for church to practice for our ward's easter program, consequently missing the call from my mom informing me that he had another stroke, and was likely going to die. You can imagine my surprise when I came home from church to receive a call from my brother saying they were going to come pick me up to go to the hospital and say goodbye to grandpa. It was only then that I listened to the message my mom had left that morning. It was a strange amalgamation of emotions. Grief, surely. Shock. But over it all, an overwhelming feeling of peace. It helped that as I was outside waiting for my family to drive up, a light flurry of snow came down while the sun was still shining strong. I took it as an omen of good things to come, despite knowing that I was going to say goodbye.

We held a memorial service for him today. He chose to donate his body to further scientific research, so we didn't have a real funeral for him. It was a beautiful service. I was able to accompany for a couple of musical numbers. I was glad to be able to provide that service for my grandfather and my grandmother. People who know him better and longer than I do said some wonderful things about him. I'd just like to add a few thoughts.

My grandfather wasn't the smartest man in the world. He worked as a plumber for most of his life, and didn't earn a university degree until he was 55. He was, however, a hard worker. While many today spoke of the love that he had for all, which is a trait he certainly possessed, I will always remember him as a worker. It seemed every time we went up to Grandma and Grandpa Cobabe's it was to help Grandpa with some project or another around the house. I remember in particular the project he began to clear out the sage brush across from their yard. Here he had brought up his 18, 16, and 14 year old grandsons. But when we got fed up or tired or bored and left the job for a while or slacked off, he just kept right on going with it. He may not have been the fastest, but he was diligent, and he was diligent in all that he did. The Tuesday before the stroke, he went to the hospital because he had some atrial fibrillation. I went with my father to give him a blessing. In the time we were there, he talked basically about three things: explaining his condition, how proud he was of me, and the flower beds he was working on around their house. They brought him such joy. He never would be content just sitting around. He had to have something to work on. Part of his joy came from doing something that brought my grandmother happiness. She has such an appreciation for flowers. He enjoys them too, but I think he was especially happy to be able to grow them for her. It was a sign of his love for her.

I love my Grandpa Cobabe. I will miss him. I will miss his smile, his laughter, and his sense of humor. I will miss seeing the happiness and peace he was able to bring to those he interacted with. However, I know that he is off doing a work of a different kind. He would not be content just sitting around resting. I'm sure he is persistently spreading the gospel to those on the other side. He wants to spread the happiness he enjoys with others. I know that because of our Savior and Redeemer, even Jesus Christ's, atonement, he will take up a glorified and perfected body at the resurrection. I know that I will see him again in the flesh, and that he has the opportunity to be with the love of his life for eternity through the covenants he made in the temple and worked diligently to keep and renew where he fell short. Despite missing him, I am mostly just filled with the gratitude and peace which come from the Holy Ghost. How blessed I am to have that gift, to be raised by a mother who was raised by a father and mother who knew the truth and passed it on to her who, together with  her husband, passed it on to me.

Been Long Enough?

Did you miss me? I know at least some of you have. I was planning on going as long as it took for Dania to mention it in one of our conversations, but she hasn't. After this blog was mentioned in Andrew Woodruff's fantastic blog, however, I decided my loyal readership deserved a post.

Because of the long break, I actually have stuff in my life that has happened. Let's see...My first ever niece was born on March 15. She's such an adorable little girl. I adore her. Babies seem to almost have magical powers. When I went and visited my brother three days after she was born to see her, I was grinning from ear to ear the whole time. Partially because we were talking about some funny stories, but mostly just because I was holding my little niece. I'm man enough to admit that I love babies. Maybe not as much as girls seem to, but I really do.

Additionally, I was accepted to Phi Eta Sigma. It's the freshman honors society at BYU. I was kind of surprised because I didn't have a stellar first semester of college, but they accepted me anyway. I guess I'm continuing my high school tradition of receiving honors while still giving sub-par effort. Speaking of sub-par effort, my first year of college is done! I finished my last final yesterday morning. It's kind of wake-up call that I really am an adult now. I've moved back home for the summer, and now I get to look forward to the sometimes-arduous process of finding a job. Yippee. Said goodbye to a lot of good friends, some of which I won't see again for another three years due to missions, and some who I may never see again, even though we'll be going to the same school. College friends are just like that. Unlike in high school, you really have to work if you want to stick with the friends you make. Especially with a four month break where you all go back home to various areas of the country and the world, it takes determination. Luckily, we have such ease of communication these days, that it's really not all that hard to do.

Before I started taking finals, though, I spent my "reading days" doing some very excellent activities. Thursday was spent at the aforementioned Andrew Woodruff's house doing a The Lord of the Rings Extended Edition Marathon. It was a fantastic event. Kudos to Andrew, Aaron Wheatley, me, and my friend from college CaryLynn Jensen that I brought along for sticking out all 11+ hours. We even watched to the end of the credits of Return of the King, which took a long time because it listed all the members of the official Lord of the Rings fan club. Lots of good memories from that day. It takes a lot of dedication to sit through all of those movies, so those who do are big fans of both the movies and the books. It was fun to talk about all the things they put in and the little nit-picky details. And we cracked our fair share of jokes too. If Andrew or Aaron ever become general authorities, be sure to pay attention to their talks.

After that lazy, couch-potato day, I went out and played frisbee the next morning. I love that sport. It is the best sport on earth that I have played. It combines the motion of basketball, the precision of football, and the back-and-forth pace of soccer. If you have never played ultimate frisbee, you need to. If you do play ultimate frisbee, let me know when so that I can join. I ran myself into the ground last Friday morning, and to a lesser extent Saturday as well, but it was so worth it.

Dad

Sorry about that last post. I was working on doing another blog post about my childhood, when for some reason I typed in "Once upon a time..." and remembered that old story my parents used to tell us. Then I thought of that idea, and I just had to use it. Of course, I had to wait for the right time (namely, when Dania asked me to write on my blog) to publish it, which took much longer than I expected. Hence the recent drought of posts. I've been trying to get Dania to request a blog post, but she just kept on not doing it! It was frustrating.

Anyway, this past week was my father's birthday. To celebrate, my parents took a trip to San Diego (conveniently, my dad just happened to have a conference down there the same week). As a consequence, I was left in charge of my younger siblings. It gave me a chance to reflect on what my dad has done for me. As I thought about it, basically the person I am today is because of my dad. I don't want to diminish my mother's role in my life; she played a huge part. But I followed the example of my dad. He taught me what it means to be a real man. I'm not talking about the "real" men that appear at Timpview every men's week. I'm talking about a man that goes to work every day and spends time doing his job, even on the days he doesn't feel like it. I'm talking about a man who spends his free time playing with his children, even if the things his children are playing don't look particularly interesting. I loved it when my dad used to play Mario Kart 64 with us. He creamed us all, but winning was somehow less important when Dad was playing. It was not unheard of for a controller to be tossed in frustration after a consistent losing streak, except for with Dad. Winning was no longer the focus. Instead, it was about having fun, as it should have been all the time.

I can't say enough about my father. I believe it to be quite literally physically impossible. He means the world to me. People sometimes say that I'm a nice guy; the word "sweetheart" has even been used on occasion. If that's true (which is still up for debate), it's only because of the example my dad set. The little things he would do are reflected, albeit poorly, in what I try to do. Of course, he wasn't perfect, especially as a kid, but that just adds to the example. He's shown me how to repent and be a better person. He's shown me that even though someone might not be the greatest guy in the world right now, he or she can become a wonderful example.

On top of all that, my dad's a really smart guy. He's outright told me some great things. Things I needed to hear. Things I may never have thought of on my own. Things that just help make the world make a little more sense.

Truly, my father is a great guy. I'm sure many of you feel the same about your fathers. I'm glad. But I think my dad might just have them beat.

Recursive

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dania, and she asked her friend, David, to write on a blog. This is the blog post he wrote:

. . .

Alcatraz

OK, I've mentioned him before. A couple of times, actually. But I just cannot get over how good of an author Brandon Sanderson is. Last night, I came home for about a week to babysit my little siblings while my parents are off frolicking in San Diego (well, maybe Dad's not actually frolicking the whole time; he is at a conference). In conjunction with that, I finally had an opportunity to read the latest in the Alcatraz series by Brandon Sanderson. My little brother Thomas got it for Christmas, but it didn't finish cycling through the rest of the family before I returned to college. Reading this book was an experience I was looking forward to immensely. For those of you unfamiliar with the series, an altogether too large a portion of the world, the Alcatraz series is an urban fantasy series kind of like Harry Potter in overall plot structure: Teenage boy, struggles growing up with his powers and not realizing it for what it was, comes of age and is suddenly faced with the prospect of saving the world. Only Brandon Sanderson does it about 10 times better. One thing you need to understand, though, is he approaches it through comedy. DO NOT attempt to read any of these books while drinking or eating. It isn't safe. About the only books I've laughed out loud more while reading are Dave Barry ones, and probably not even all of those. Honestly, these books are just good to have around for those days when you just need to have a good laugh. Sanderson knows how to write comedy. Admittedly, though, many of the subtler jokes rely on being a well-read individual, but not terribly so.

Besides the humor, Sanderson writes amazing books. While I enjoy them for the comedy, I love them for what he is able to do with the writing. The deeper meanings in his works, hidden behind the facade of the wit, are what truly set these books apart. I could not put any of them down while I read them the first time. Brandon Sanderson does an excellent job at tapping into the human psyche, in a way I hadn't seen since Orson Scott Card's Ender and Shadow series. I quite honestly think that he is the best author currently writing. Period. I don't care if you like fantasy or not, at least give his Alcatraz series a try. If you do like fantasy, and you haven't picked up a Sanderson novel yet, do so soon. It's probably best to start with Mistborn, although I personally favor Elantris.

Toy Story 3

Sorry it's been so long. I've actually had a post ready for a while now, but I need to wait for the right time to publish it. I thought the moment would have come a lot sooner, but it hasn't, and the few of you that actually enjoy reading this blog for whatever reason deserve something.

But first, a message from my good friend and roommate Taylor Abegg-Lawerence: "Dear world: Barf barf barf barf. Love Taylor."

Yesterday, I finally watched Toy Story 3 for the first time. Mock and ridicule me all you want for going this long without seeing it; I know I deserve it. When my family watched it over Christmas break, however, I was off doing something with friends, and, although they watched How to Train Your Dragon three times, they didn't want to watch Toy Story 3 again. Yesterday I saw it, though, and my top 25 movies list needs some adjustment.

Toy Story 3 got me in a different way than Up did. With Up, I was most impressed with the first 15 minutes or so and spent the rest of the movie thinking it was a good movie. With Toy Story 3, I spent the large majority of the movie thinking it was a good movie and that Pixar had managed to avoid the "we have no story, but we'll still make a lot of money off this movie just because it's part of a great series" problem so many films have today, but I didn't think it was something all that special. Then I got to the last five minutes of the movie. It may just be a reflection of some stuff I'm going through right now, but in the last five minutes, when we really get to see Andy as something more than just a static character, I felt that Pixar had modeled him off of me.

Let's do a comparison, shall we? The whole premise of the movie is Andy moving out to college. They mention in the movie that Andy is 17 years old. Well, when I came to college, I was 17 years old. Check one. The opening scene of the movie is a depiction of a typical Andy playtime scenario. While I used sticks and completely imaginary characters as opposed to action figures, I used to create similar scenes. Check two. Andy has kept these old toys, hinting that though he might not play with them anymore, the stories he used to create with them still had a place in his imagination. The sticks I used to play out mock battle scenes fell by the wayside, but the stories I imagined proliferated. Check three. Andy has a great time revisiting those old games when he donates his old toys to Bonnie. Whenever I spend time with a small child, I immerse myself in their games and am able to play their games as fully as they do. Check four. All in all, the ending of that movie hit me like a brick. I was able to see myself as Andy (something that I think is not uncommon for most people). What a great ending to a great saga. Pixar did it yet again.

Sometimes, You Just Have to Dance

There are just those times in life when stuff is just going well. And then something really exciting happens. And then your favorite song comes on. Those are the times when you just have to dance. Just get up and bust a move or two. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

Okay, no, no, not really. I've never just had to dance in my life. But hey, it was a title for a post, and it certainly got your attention didn't it? Who wouldn't want to read about the sudden transformation of David Sorensen to a dancer? That would be breaking news. Almost like the rumor that spread without prejudice about me having a girlfriend. Let me just clear that matter up right now: David Sorensen does not have, and has never had, a girlfriend. The world has not yet ended. You don't need to worry.

Yeah, basically I have nothing to write about and so I'm kind of just going with any life updates you might possibly want to know about. Except I don't really have a life, so I don't have any updates to tell you about. Too bad. Well, I guess...nope, nothing at all remotely even close to interesting. Sorry. Welcome to my life. It's really quite boring, but I like it. I don't do very exciting things, but it doesn't matter to me because what I do is enjoyable.