Theron Milton Ashcroft

Funeral

FUNERAL

Yesterday is a memory, tomorrow is a mystery and today is a gift, which is why it is called the present.
What the caterpillar perceives is the end, to the butterfly is just the beginning. Everything that has a beginning has an ending.
Make your peace with that and all will be well.

― Buddhist Saying

It was President Kimball who said, “My life is like my shoes -- to be worn out in service.” That was truly the case with Theron. His healthy life allowed him to be active and productive until the last couple of years. Theron was not one to complain. He had such a great positive attitude that even when things weren’t going so well he could make you think it was great. He used to have severe headaches, and would get deathly sick. He said on several occasions, “I don’t mind them so much ‘cause I feel so much better when they’re over.”

After their release from the St. George Temple Presidency, Theron and Lucretia returned to Cedar City. Theron was called to be the High Priest Group Leader for the Second Ward. He continued to plant and care for a garden. When Don was killed in the Pacific Southwest Airlines crash over San Diego it was a tremendous blow to Theron -- one from which he never recovered. The shock and grief most likely caused Theron to have a stroke, which was followed by a series of small strokes over the next 18 months. Each of these strokes further diminished Theron’s capacity, taking away his physical mobility, his speech, and even his sight. Lucretia cared for him night and day until he passed away on March 18, 1980. His funeral was held March 22, 1980. It was a cold and snowy day. Harold Shirley shared with the family these thoughts and a poem he had written for the occasion:

“It snowed off and on all day the day of Theron’s funeral. The falling snow reminded me of the confetti in a ticker tape parade, and I associated it with Theron’s welcome home. I really thought the world of Theron and I wrote this in my journal several days after his funeral.”

There must have been
some celebration
for Theron today
as Heaven’s confetti
fell all day
and on into the evening
as another of earth’s
great and noble ones
was triumphantly chauffeured home.

Usually such parades
are reserved
(along with 21-gun salutes)
to heads of nations and empires.
But a continuing 41-descendant salute --
coupled with throngs of friends and neighbors --
paid tribute to one
who weeded defects and imperfections
out of the lives of his children
even as he meticulously weeded
his well-ordered garden.

Theron always saw to it
that his seed never fell
in unprepared soil.
His character building
and home building --
not just his physics --
uniquely qualify him
for universe building.

Harold Shirley

In the eulogy given at the funeral, Elva Hatch drew from a poem written by Patricia DeJohn entitled, No Sad Tears for Me.

“If Theron could express himself today, I think perhaps this is what he would say: ‘Dear loved ones. I hope by now that the kind carpet of pleasant memories has started to unroll. I only ask one thing. No sad tears for me, please. Rather, recall with me a fond smile as the husband and father and friend who shared your laughter, tears and dreams through the years. Save your sadness and sorrow for those who go before their time, for those who leave before they experience the many beautiful things of this life. No sad tears for me, please. I lived a goodly span of years and enjoyed them all. I’ve laughed a lot, cried a little. I’ve seen a thousand sunsets and a few fresh dawns, walked in April rain, and watched an ocean roll. I loved a woman and was loved in return. I’ve cradled daughters in my arms and walked with the hands of young sons in my own. No sad tears for me, please. Many victories were mine and they gave life zest. I’ve had defeats and they made me strong. In my youth I raced with young companions and knew the thrill of the finish line. And the roar of the crowd was sweet. And when age came, I was allowed to stand at the edge of the crowd and watch the young people perform. So no sad tears for me, please. Life was good. I saw robins in the spring, watched a shooting star or two, enjoyed the snows of winter, walked under a harvest moon, and stood a time or two on top of a high hill and watched the flickering lights of our town. No sad tears for me, please. Think of the happy times. The Christmas mornings, the grandsons, the granddaughters, the graduations, the weddings, the Thanksgiving dinners, the carefree vacations, and most of all, remember the thousands of times we were all together as a family. No sad tears for me, please. For no one dies as long as there is one person left in the living world who remembers him with fond recall and shares a thought with him, though he has gone ahead. Some day one of you may be looking at the beautiful blue Hanauma Bay, and you might feel a sudden soft warm breeze across your cheek. And you will know that I am there. Or you might be standing on a mountain top and if there is a sudden gentle stirring among the trees, feel I am sharing this moment with you. On Christmas Eve, if there is a small star in the sky, look at it with love and let it come into your heart and remember me. A man never really dies while there are those on earth who loved him. A man is never gone as long as there are those who remember him with fondness and as long as his memory evokes a wistful smile. All who have loved and who have been loved have earned a piece of immortality. No sad tears for me, please.”

Theron was buried at the Cedar City Cemetery.

Funeral Service for Theron M. Ashcroft
March 22, 1980