I couldn't resist a musical reference to the Beetlejuice's "Dead Mom" song, especially because I've been thinking about dead dads lately. My father's birthday was yesterday, January 4th. He died so young at only 65 years old! I would have loved to have been able to talk with him for the last 25 years. I surely have needed a "little help here" on earth. And I'm positive he would have been there for me, as he was throughout his life. A vivid example of his help was his generous financial support while I attended Brigham Young University right after high school. He would have much preferred me to go down the street to our local, almost free, Long Beach City College. However, my dad supported my dreams and goals, even if he complained. How I miss him!
Jeffrey R. Holland, recently deceased (December 27, 2025) was BYU president during my important years of my university education. But he was much more than my president. He was sort of like a dad to me. I know I was just one of 25, 000 students but when he spoke, I felt like he was speaking to me personally. His passionate and fiery testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, fueled my own fire of faith. It was like electricity surging through our bodies when he spoke in the Marriot Center at BYU. Even though we were all part of his professional stewardship, it felt like he cared about the one just as much as the masses. We knew he loved us. I knew he loved me, like a father loves a child. It was an honor and privilege to be part of his BYU flock.
It was absolutely no surprise when he was called as one of the twelve apostles for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It was fun for others to discover his fire, his eloquence, his powerful teaching and most importantly, his powerful witness of Jesus Christ. Of course he was my favorite! Many apostles and prophets have died during my lifetime, but I mourned Jeffrey R. Holland's death in a different way. It was personal and I felt like I had a unique relationship with him. I really didn't, I mean I'm just one in a sea of past students, but still, it meant something to me.
I had an experience several years ago that seemed to sum up this connection to Jeffrey R. Holland. I was a young mom struggling to get to church sacrament meeting on time with my 5 children, ages 5-12. We were late, as usual, and I scurried to the front row pew in the chapel with my chaotic tribe. I was frazzled and unorganized but tried to settle down. Then I looked up to the stand. Sitting right in front of me next to our bishop, was Jeffrey R. Holland. I don't know why he was visiting this particular ward as an unexpected visitor, but he was there. As a visiting authority, he gave his testimony and some words of counsel. I was close enough to see into his big blue eyes and he could definately see me and my children. It was the closest I had ever been, I definately wasn't one of the 25, 000 in a basketball arena seeing him through the jumbo-tron.
After the meeting, I went up to shake his hand and tell him that I had been one of his BYU students. He responded with words, "I claim every one of my BYU students forever." (or something like that). These loving words were coupled with a warm handshake and hug. It confirmed in my heart and mind, that yes, he was like my BYU dad.
Both of these "dead dads" helped me in different ways. Though these two men were very different, they both gave me a glimpse of what my own Father in Heaven is really like. Through their example of fathering, they helped Heavenly Father feel more real to me-more tangible in my life. Both of them taught me about how my Father in Heaven feels about me. Oh, how I know, God, my Father loves and cares about me. And though I cannot talk or listen to my dead dads anymore in a way I would like, I can turn to the one who will never die, my Eternal Father. One that continues to answer my plea for "a little help here."
