During the funeral, my Aunt Marcie told us that she had been reading to my grandpa from his favorite Louie Lamoure book in the hospital. They hadn't finished the book so she thought the funeral was a good place to read the ending. She read,
"Kenyon stood by his trusted horse with one hand on the saddle horn and looked back over his shoulder to the ranch that had been his life for so long. He had loved that life, working the soil, herding the cattle, raising his kids, but it was time to move on. Leona was waiting for him. He stuck his toe into the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle. In front of him was a small ridge. One last uphill struggle and he could relax. His shoulders were slumped slightly and his arms hung slack at his side as he started up the hill. He was tired. Bone tired. It was time to go and he knew it, even wanted it, but he felt like a lasso was around him somehow preventing his leaving. He looked back once more and his children had gathered outside to see him off. As they waved goodbye, he felt the rope loosen and drop from him. With renewed energy, he clicked his tongue and spurred the old bay a little and the horse lurched forward into a trot. At the top of the ridge he caught a glimpse of the one thing he had been waiting such a long time to see; his beloved Leona. She was still the most
beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her dark hair hung down the back of her sweater just as he remembered. This time he spurred his horse much harder and whooped as he gained speed. The sun was just settling into a dip in the mountain and the light was in that magical moment just before sunset. He was happy now. Nothing would ever separate them again."