Grandpa Taft

Michael Vern Taft

Michael V. Taft passed away November 7, 2011. He was born August 2, 1941 in Lehi, Utah to Vern Ivan and Utella Smith Taft. He married Dianne Thiese on October 29, 1960. Mike worked as a welder for the plumbers and pipefitters union for over forty years.
He enjoyed gardening, pets, and was an avid drag racing fan.
Mike is survived by his wife of fifty-one years Dianne, daughter JaNean Taft (Tom Dowland), son Bill Taft (Lori Green), grandchildren Rocky Taft (Michelle Baxter), Laci Gentry (Christian), great-grandchildren Gage Taft, Berkeley Gentry, Chanae Goodman, Ashton Baxter, great-great-granddaughter Kloie Goodman, mother Utella Taft, brothers Neil (Sandie) and Russell (Leslie) Taft, sister Cheryl Taft (Lance Wise). He was preceded in death by his father Vern Taft.
Funeral services will be at 11:00 a.m. on Friday, November 11th at Wasatch Lawn Mortuary, 3401 South Highland Drive, Salt Lake City. A viewing will be held on Thursday from 6-8:00 p.m., and one hour prior to the services on Friday.

Dear Gramp,

It is hard for me to imagine going to your house and not having you there, in your chair, in the kitchen waiting to greet me. I have so many memories of you sitting in your chair, always in that same spot. From that spot you could see who was coming to the door, see the birds visiting the bird feeder in the backyard, keep on eye on the dogs when they needed to go outside or be let back in. You were always there when Gram, Nean and I got back from our shopping trip, waiting anxiously to see how much Gram spent while we were out. We’d show you all our bargains, and you’d pretend to be impressed and interested. You were always sitting there to greet Rocky and I when we were little on Sunday mornings as we’d wake up and gather for a yummy meal together. That was just your special spot.

It is hard for me to picture Christmas mornings without you sitting by the fireplace. You always made the best fires on Christmas morning. You made sure all the beautiful wrapping paper from all the presents got disposed of by burning it up. This may seem like a silly memory, but each Christmas I can picture you sitting on the fireplace so clearly in my head, this was such a special tradition to me.

It’s hard for me to imagine anyone else driving your jeep around town. You love to drive everyone to dinner regularly. When Gram and Nean wanted to stop at Mervyns, Ross or Albertsons afterward, you would always gladly drop them off and wait in the jeep patiently for them to return. You were so good to take Gram to and from all of her medical appointments she had this year from her accident, as well as drive to visit her every single day she was in the hospital and rehab. It is so hard to imagine you not being there with Gram anymore, you two were such a wonderful team.

It’s hard to imagine who will run the BBQ in the backyard now. You were truly in your element in your backyard. You worked so hard to make it look nice, often to be destroyed by the dogs. You loved to have family BBQ’s, where you could fire up your monster chef grill and make everyone happy with juicy hamburgers, delicious steaks or tender chicken. You really were the master BBQer. If I think about it this really had to be your happiest self. You love to be with your family, outside, BBQing and eating good food.

Dear Gramp,

Thanks for teaching me to have a sense of humor. You were never a man who had a lot to say or who talked a lot about deep philosophical things, but people always wanted to hear what you had to say. Mostly everyone wanted to hear what witty, sarcastic thing would come out of your mouth next. You truly could match wits with anyone and loved to give those you cared about he most a hard time. This is definitely a trait you have handed down to my dad and I think I picked up on a bit of it as well. I can only hope Berkeley can get some of you humor as well.

Dear Gramp,

Thanks for loving your family so much. You and Gram are constantly showing your family how much you love them. You always wanted to with your family. Each Sunday you would drive to pick up your mom, Pop or both so we could all eat dinner together. There wasn’t a week that went by that you weren’t having dinner with Nean, Gage, Gram, dad or everyone. You truly loved being with your family whenever you could, as it was always your number 1 priority. Thanks for setting such a good example to me about the importance of family.

Thanks for being such a great Gramp to Rocky and I. We couldn’t have asked for anything better. You and Gram have always been there for us and helped us in any way you could. Thanks for being the best.

Thank you for being such a wonderful Great Grandfather! I know being able to watch Gage regularly has been one of the biggest joys for you and Gram the last few years. He has brought so much joy and laughter to you and your home. He’s been so lucky to be close with his great grandfather. I know he is going to miss you; eating his broccoli at Chili’s with you, along with the many other fun things you did together.

I know you and Gram keep up with my blog regularly mainly so you can keep up with Berkeley. The last time we talked on the phone a few weeks ago, you told me you had read how Berkeley had pushed a little girl into a fountain and of course you had to get on the phone and ask me what kind of child I was raising that would do such a thing. I am so glad Berke got to spend time with you this summer.

Dear Gramp,

I am going to miss you. My heart is so heavy that you left the world so fast. You are going to be missed so much by your wife, mother, daughter, son, brothers, sister, in-laws, grandchildren, and dear friends. I will miss your laugh, your amazingly cool and well-maintained mustache and especially your presence in my life. I know you are with your dad now and will watch over us all. Please know that we love you so much, and always will.

Love you Gramp!

THE SHIP

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!"

And that is dying.


Henry Van Dyke