Earth's Angel

I am behind in my blogging for one reason.  No part of me wants to write this post.  No part of me knows how to write this post.  

I am borrowing from the words of others.

From his obituary:
Beloved husband, father, brother, uncle, and grandfather Don Frederick Zimmerman returned to his heavenly home October 9, 2015 after a 19-month long battle with pancreatic cancer.
Don was born December 3, 1950 in San Francisco, CA to Frederick Augustus and Dorothy Liddell Zimmerman. He was born and lived his early life in the bay area of California.  He served a mission to Australia from 1970-1972 for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  He graduated from Brigham Young University with a B.A. in Political Science and later earned a Master’s Degree in Business Administration from Golden Gate University.

He married the love of his life, Andrea Kimball in the Washington, D.C. LDS temple in June 1975. After school, Don and Andrea moved to the Sacramento, CA area.  They later relocated and spent 10 years in Greeley, Colorado before moving back to the Sacramento area where they have resided in Granite Bay, CA for the past 23 years.  Don worked in long-term health care and managed nursing homes for 35 years.  Companies he worked for included ARA Living Centers, Sunrise Health Care, Evergreen, HCR ManorCare, Hillhaven, Signature Health Care, and Emeritus Senior Living.  He worked in facilities all over the western states including CA, AZ, WA, NV, UT, MT, ID, WY, and NE.

 Don loved helping others and enjoyed his vocational work.  He especially loved the many friends and associates he worked with over the years. After retirement, he delved into many projects such as gardening, restoring his 1977 Bronco, and remodeling his house.  He especially loved to travel and to spend time at Lake Tahoe.  He loved serving in the LDS Sacramento temple and spending time with his family and friends.  He loved the outdoors and enjoyed fishing, hunting, and camping (especially with his wife, children and grandchildren.)  We will all miss his great ability to show love, his sense of humor, his wisdom, and his advice as well as his expert Scrabble skills. His grandkids will miss his wonderful buttermilk pancakes.

 He is survived by his wife of 40 years, Andrea Kimball, his six children (Aaron Zimmerman and his wife Kelleen of Folsom, CA, Allen Zimmerman and his wife Erica of Berkeley Heights, NJ, Gretchen Andaverde and her husband Saul of Houston, TX, Sam Zimmerman of Houston, TX, Erika Christensen and her husband Brandon of Atlanta, GA, and Alex Zimmerman of Provo, UT), his sixteen grandchildren (Jacob Zimmerman, Tyler Zimmerman, Brooklyn Zimmerman, Ryder Zimmerman, Linley Zimmerman, Tessa Zimmerman, Eden Zimmerman, Andreas Andaverde, Fred Andaverde, Eve Andaverde, Don Andaverde, Zoe Zimmerman, Trent Zimmerman, Rozlyn Christensen, Grant Christensen, Miriam Christensen), and his two sisters Diane Wells and Marti Lindelof.

From Allen:

It is an odd thing, having my words spoken at the funeral of the man whom has served as the narrator of my life. In the hours and days since his death, I feel as if I’ve lost my words. I suppose it is because he was the person that provided me with so many of them. So many times over the past few days, as I’ve struggled or hurt or hoped, I’ve thought, “I should call Dad”. He would give wise counsel on how to keep things in the proper perspective.  

Each one of you here knows my dad in a different way.  But I know him as my compass. My father is honest, he is hard-working, a good father and a disciple of Christ.  My father lived a life that directed me the right way:

Directing me To Honesty

As a pre-teen, I enjoyed going to the movies with friends.  These were the rare occasions I was left unsupervised.  It was not uncommon to pay for a single admission, then surreptitiously watch all the movies in the theater. Either excited by the prospect or driven by guilt even before I had committed the act, I determined to discuss my evening’s movie-hopping plans with my father.  His reply was as simple as it was stern: “Son, it is not worth going to hell over $4.”  As an adult, where opportunities are ample and denominations are significant, I regularly reflect on my father’s response that night and refuse to sell priceless portions of myself for monetary value.

Directing me to Work Hard

Growing up, our Saturday’s were spent laboring next to dad in the yard.  These days were long and the tasks arduous: from building a two story tall deck to tending gardens, paving walkways, erecting retaining walls, and installing sprinklers.  As I prepared to leave for college and establish my independence, I realized the skills I had accumulated all those Saturdays were still only a remarkably small fraction of dad’s vast skill set.  I asked him one evening how he learned to do it all. “Did your dad teach you everything you know, because if so, I got robbed.”  He chuckled then went on to explain, some he had learned from his father, but most he had learned from books, trial and error, and hard work.  

That work ethic, developed over a decade of Saturdays, has helped me excel in school, persevere on my mission, find success at work, and achieve balance at home.  Now, my Saturday’s are spent with my son: demolishing bathrooms, rewiring electrical, and landscaping our yard.  I am eager for the day when he will ask me if my dad taught me everything I know, and if so, he got robbed.  I will chuckle then go on to explain that I learned many skills from my father, but the greatest skill he taught me was to always work hard.  And the rest I learned from YouTube.

Directing me to Fatherhood

There are countless moments my dad has offered advice on how to be a good and loving father, but nothing can eclipse the power of his own example.  Dad was expert at treating me with respect and understanding, and ensuring I always had a voice.   Notably, during junior prom a large group of kids had  planned an overnight party at the home of one of my friends.  I asked mom for permission to attend, and was met with a firm, “no.”  Naturally, I walked straight to dad, certain he would appeal on my behalf.  Instead, he sat me down with mother and discussed the dangers of such parties and the need to avoid events where the spirit may not be present.  He fathered me, but did so in a way that made me feel valid.  They then asked me how late I felt was reasonable for me to stay out that night.  Negotiations proceeded and a curfew was agreed upon.  Parting with my friends earlier than I had originally hoped that evening lost its sting knowing my parents respected me and were looking out for me with love.

Directing me to be a Disciple of Christ

Dad was not a get up every fast Sunday to bear his testimony kind of guy.  He was a family home evening, family scripture study, and “get up early every morning and make the kids breakfast so they make it to seminary on time” kind of guy.  The weekly tradition of grilling kids to ensure memorization of the Articles of Faith continues to this day in my home.  He spent countless hours in concert with Mom to ensure the flames of our childhood testimonies ignited in our hearts and had the opportunity to grow stronger on their own through constant nurturing.  His example of being a disciple of Christ does not have a pinnacle story nor a climatic ending. Instead, it is a culmination of his life’s work, devoted to serving the Lord; at home, at church and in the temple.  While my father lived a full and happy life, his dream to serve more than one mission for the Lord will not occur here on earth.  Instead, may the family proceeding him continue his legacy of love and service.  May his 4 sons, whom have spanned the world on church missions, along with his 2 daughters who married return missionaries, nurture a new generation to exponentially increase the penetration of the testimony of Jesus Christ, fanning the flames of testimonies, many of which can be traced back to Dad sharing his.

We will miss you dad, but you will always be our True North, directing us closer to God and fanning the flame of our testimony.

From Ryder:

I have a firm testimony that the Holy Ghost testifies the truth of all things. Recently Grandpa Zimmerman passed away after a long suffering with major health problems. During his funeral, I felt a strong impression that the plan of salvation is real and that grandpa would be serving the Lord in the spirit world. I know it was the Holy Ghost testifying this sweet truth, and I feel peace knowing that my grandpa is no longer in pain but is happy with his family in heaven.

I know this church is true and I know that Holy Ghost will testify the truth of all things, because I have felt it.  I love the happiness the plan of salvation brings and I am grateful that I will be able to hug Grandpa Z in heaven again someday.

To my biggest fan-
Thank you for raising a son who could hang the moon (and a shelf) and put the stars in my eyes. Thank you for loving his mother deeply, respecting her purely, and honoring her absolutely.  Your boy is your copy, and I get to reap the rewards.
I love you, handsome.