Eulogy

The first night I met Jamie was April 23^rd, 2008. I was moving into a new apartment and asked a dear friend of mine to round up some guys from the new ward to help with the heavy lifting. Jamie, always eager and willing to serve, was one of those faithful young men. Our interactions were brief that night, but his wit and humor shown through even then as he gallantly struggled up and down my stairs with what he referred to as a “thousand pound dining table”.

Over the coming weeks, months, and years I learned more about this man I fell in love with. He was born on April 27^th, 1983 … on the same day as me, only two years earlier. He was the youngest of three children and had lived in Mesa, Arizona all of his life. His family tells of what a happy, easy going, and inquisitive baby he was. Jamie was curious and climbed on everything. His parents were safe and smart and tried their best to keep things out of his reach. And yet, they still found him eating peanut butter out of the jar with a steak knife. There was no stopping Jamie.

He was a child, and a man, without fear. When he was five, his parents decided to build a pool in the backyard. Looking at an overhang on the roof one day, they had the revelation that though Jamie was young, he would eventually be jumping off that roof into the pool. They demanded it be dug extra deep. The contractors assured them that the pool was regulation depth for the diving board they had planned, but the Patels said, “No, you don’t understand. Extra deep.” And, as predicted, Jamie went on to have a long career of jumping from the roof.

He began playing the saxophone in 4^th grade and continued all through high school. He played in both the jazz and marching bands. He spoke fondly of these times and I heard all about his misadventures and escapades with his band buddies. Only months ago Jamie decided he wanted to go to his parent’s house in Mesa and pick up his saxophone. I made the journey with him, not thinking much of it. After all, it had been eight years since he had played and I thought he was being more sentimental than anything else. I couldn’t imagine he could actually still play. We returned home that night and I went into our bedroom and shut the door. Moments later I heard the sweetest, most beautiful tones wafting through the door. I layed still and listened for a bit, completely in awe of this man that I had married, who excelled at everything. It was as if he never put it down.

Jamie’s interest in planes was insatiable from the beginning. Even as a small child, he would head directly for the aircraft section in any bookstore. Before long, his interest became Navy specific. At the age of six, he made the conscious decision to become a naval aviator. It was a goal that guided him through the rest of his life.

In high school, he joined the Air Force JROTC because the Navy did not have a program at his school. He made the choice to attend South Mountain, which was a magnet high school for aviation. This required him to take two buses just to get to school every day. He soon discovered that South Mountain was not the place for him and returned to Westwood where he graduated in 2001.

Jamie received a scholarship from the Air Force and a nomination for appointment to the Air Force Academy from Senator Jon Kyle. It seemed as if his dream was in reach. But the Navy was his love, and the F-14 Tomcat was his siren. He turned down the appointment in favor of enlisting in the Navy.

This decision was difficult for everyone to comprehend … why, when he was so close to achieving his dream of becoming a fighter pilot, would he walk away? His parents tried to discuss it at length with him and explain the magnitude of his decision. In typical Jamie fashion, he was unwavering. He told his mother, “The end goal is the same. You want me to take one train, and I’m going to take this one instead, but they both stop at the same place.”

That train took him to Atsugi, Japan, where he was attached to VFA-192, the World Famous Golden Dragons, and the USS Kitty Hawk. He worked as an avionics technician and quickly became specialized in repairing and maintaining FLIR pods on the F-18 Super Hornet. (FLIR is the system that locates targets and guides missiles.) Jamie was an integral part of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Those first few years in the Navy, Jamie felt as if he didn’t belong. He watched as his fellow sailors went to bars, caroused with women, got tattoos, and caused general mayhem. Jamie was a grown man, overseas, and had no one to stop him from behaving the same way. But he knew it wasn’t right. He described nights of lying awake in his bunk, thinking that there had to be more to life than what he was seeing all around him.

Aboard the carrier, each faith received an hour a week to worship in the ship’s chapel. Jamie was fellowshipped by a few members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and began attending their humble little service while on a three month deployment aboard the Kitty Hawk. Upon returning to the base at Atsugi, he was invited to continue going to church with the members at their small little branch.

It wasn’t long before several wonderful young men found Jamie—American guys serving full-time missions for the church in Japan. One of them shared his journal entry with me from that night. “We taught the Joseph Smith experience to a young kid named Jamie. He is in the military. He seems to be really strong and wants to be baptized. He seems to take in everything we teach him. He accepted the invitation to pray about the experience and he accepted happily. What an amazing kid.”

These missionaries have stayed close to Jamie over the years. They were with us in the temple that beautiful day in June, and they are here in the congregation today. I asked them to share some of the experiences they had teaching Jamie. One of them writes, “From the time I first meet Jamie up to his baptism every lesson was like [the first]. Every time we talked he thirsted for more. He always had questions and he always accepted what we were teaching him. I guess you could say Jamie was Golden. Jamie was a breath of fresh air for me. And if it were not for him I may not have stayed out on my mission. I was struggling with the language and trying to adjust to being in Japan was very hard. But to be able to teach Jamie and really watch his testimony grow in the gospel helped my own testimony grow even stronger. I truly believe that he is the reason I endured to the end and stayed on my mission, and I will thank him to this day and will always be grateful for his example to me.”

Another writes, “It is not very often that someone you teach and see progress and enter the waters of baptism becomes an example to you. This is exactly what Jamie is to me.”

On January 18^th, 2003, Jamie was baptized. The same elder wrote the following in his journal that night. “Today was Jamie’s baptism, what a wonderful day. Feelings can’t describe how happy I am right now. To see Jamie make commitments and keep them and have the spirit testify to him of the truthfulness of the gospel is such a wonderful experience. You can tell in his voice as he boar his testimony that he knows it is true and he will be a strong member in the church. Man I love this kid.”

Jamie continued to progress in the church and soon expressed a desire to serve a full-time mission himself. He completed his four-year enlistment with the Navy, and submitted his mission papers in 2005. He was called to serve in Korea Seoul West. Those years, from 2005-2007 were among the best in his life.

The mission did not come easy for Jamie. It was a true trial of faith. He writes in his journal of his struggles—with the language, with the people, with himself. But through those struggles his testimony grew, and he changed from a man who believed to a man who knew. On May 11, 2006, he writes to himself, “Remember, oh remember, Jamie D. Patel, that you know there is a God, a father of your spirit. Where he is, is of no concern to you right now because he is in heaven and you are not. So it’s enough to say that he exists and loves you more perfectly than anyone you have ever or will ever know. You are his son! He has created and prepared you. He knows you better than you know yourself. You would not be where you are today had it not been for intimate knowledge of your soul, the experiences he has given you, the influence of the spirit, and your agency. Would you have been baptized had you not been in the Navy? Would you not have joined the Navy if you hadn’t gone to South Mountain [High School] and wasted 18 weeks? You know these experiences and you know that they have been exactly what you needed so that you could come to a knowledge of your Heavenly Father and accept his gospel. There is no such thing as coincidence. That is a word made up by the faithless men who assume to know more than God. He loves them too and is preparing them just as he did you. Respect their agency and only believe their words if they are in accordance with the word of God and confirmed by the Holy Ghost, which you have in you as long as you remain worthy of such a blessing.”

I have received countless emails and phone calls from the people whose lives were touched by my dear Jamie in Korea. He was a great man, a spiritual pillar, and a humble servant of our Lord. Jamie had an amazing talent to connect with people, and because of his own background of conversion he was able to relate to the people in ways others could not. His mission certainly changed Jamie, for the better. Near the end of his mission he wrote a letter to his mission president.

“I came on a mission because a man whom I know to be a prophet counseled every young, able bodied man to. I was young. I was able. That was that. My sacrifice to serve was normal, so on faith, I willingly gave. What I lost was more than I expected. Embarrassing, humiliating, and heart-wrenching as it was, my faith was enlarged to encompass it, and the hope that perhaps I might be the means to bring about some good was my fuel. Whether or not I have done any good I do not know, but this much was given to me: a belief, not hinged, influenced, or factored on anyone or anything else, that there is a God, Father, and Creator, and through his prophets I know of his plan and my purpose. It is my belief, it was not purchased or borrowed, and it cannot be lent or sold. It is mine!”

His testimony humbles me.

After returning home from Korea, he spent time working in Mesa and living with his family. In 2008 he moved to Tucson and enrolled in the University of Arizona. That is where our story begins.

Our courtship was quick. We met in April, began dating in September, and were engaged ten weeks later. Jamie was, and still is, a marvel to me. Full of surprises, quick with his wit, and firm in his faith. I was hooked. Jamie wore his heart on his sleeve and unabashedly declared to me and the world, on a daily basis, exactly the way he felt about me.

On December 18^th, 2008, he enlisted the help of my administration, fellow teachers, and students, to propose to me at school. Each one of my dear little students had a part and performed it well. I have never been so shocked, confused, and mystified at once. It was beautiful.

There was never any question that we would be married in the temple. We chose Draper because it was new and we could take his family through before it was dedicated, to help them be part of our special day.

June 6^th, 2009 was the best day of my life. My lovey looked beautiful in white, and as I sat there next to him I could not believe I was about to marry this incredible man. Elder Ringwood, Jamie’s mission president, honored us by joining Jamie and I together for time and all eternity that day. We are sealed together, and our marriage continues, even now. This is a sure and unwavering knowledge that I have, and I know that Jamie has the same.

Jamie wrote me a letter in the temple that morning. It reads, “I thought you were beautiful from the first time I saw you. As the months went by I learned you weren’t just a pretty face, but a beautiful person as well. I asked you to marry me because I thought I loved you. In the temple this morning, when I saw you in your wedding dress, when I looked into your eyes across the altar, when I kissed you as my wife, you have never been more beautiful to me, and I have never loved you more.”

Jamie and I honeymooned in Mexico then returned to Tucson to make our life. And oh, how we laughed. Jamie’s first and foremost priority in life was to take care of me, and his second was to tease me. I cannot count the number of times he was waiting to pop out at me from behind the shower curtain. I would scream, jump ten feet in the air, and he would fall to the floor, clutching his side and laughing like crazy.

He always kept me on my toes. I remember once opening the freezer and finding a large bumble bee lying on the shelf. “Jamie?” I asked a little suspiciously. “Can you explain this to me?” He told me the bee had been in the house, and he had wanted to kill it humanely. I almost agreed with him until he admitted that he had to “disable it with a textbook” before he could get it into the freezer. Later that night I found the frozen little bee out on our counter, and Jamie was examining it curiously. With my tweezers, I might add. All I could do was laugh.

The next day I came home and a bee was flying around the house. I was convinced his little frozen friend had been resurrected, and called him to report the news. He rushed home, and after an initial examination it was determined it was not his brave little friend from the night before, but a comrade of his instead. I am sure he ended up in the freezer as well.

Jamie loved to work with his hands. He loved tools and reveled in being able to do little jobs around the house. I mentioned off hand once that the switches in the bathroom bothered me … the fan came first instead of the light. By the time I got home the next day, he had rewired them. He installed a rod in our laundry room for my clothes, and a shelf for our food storage. He stayed up all night once building lamps for me out of tiki torches that we purchased at Home Depot for three dollars. He was particularly proud when he found light bulbs that looked like fire.

And it wasn’t just for me. Jamie was always generous and eager to serve. It’s ten o’clock on a school night and you’re painting your bedroom? No problem! Jamie will be there with bells on. Need someone to watch your kids? Jamie will bring his basketball. Moving? Jamie can pack a box with precision, and never met a flight of stairs he couldn’t maneuver with a couch in tow. Jamie is an incredible example of service and Christ like love.

Just as my students last year came to know him, my students this year loved him too. He would come into my classroom on Fridays to grade papers, organize my files, and keep my kiddos in line. Whenever he walked through the door they would start wiggling in their seats because they were so excited to see him. He knew each of them by name … and even in alphabetical order.

He also charmed my office staff. It was a frequent sight to see Jamie signing in around lunch time, with homemade lunches in tow. When tragedy struck a fellow staff member, he wanted to be a first responder. He asked me daily, “How is she? What does she need? What can we do?” Jamie recognized that because we did not yet have children, we were in a position to help and serve others that we may not have later in life, and he took full advantage of it.

Earlier this month we celebrated our eight month anniversary. As I was falling asleep that night I told him, “I love you eight months more than the day I married you.” He looked at me with the sweetest, sincerest little smile, gently shook his head and replied, “Not possible.”

My husband is a great and mighty man who brought laughter and joy to many people’s lives … most of all, mine. I am humbled at the honor and privilege I had, and have, to stand next to this amazing man. I am thankful for the things he taught me, and the ways he guided me. I will never be the same. I have a more perfect understanding of the gospel and the atonement, and I look forward with faith to the day that I will be by his side once more, serving in our Father’s kingdom together. I echo my husband's words when he said, “My joy is full and it is hard to see how I could be blessed with more.”