Kelli Freel Prue
So many good memories of my early 20's include my friend, Phil.
Phil and Craig hanging out with us at Airview House (rented by four of us girls, it became the YSA hangout for the time we lived there). Family Home Evenings, Sunday dinners, holidays, talking 'til all hours, sharing our testimonies, goofing around and eating pumpkin pies, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin bread, pumpkin soup, pumpkin muffins -- pumpkin everything -- after I cooked up a pumpkin that fall, because no matter how much of it we used, the volume never decreased.
Phil driving around in his big, red, gas-guzzling convertible, picking up those of us without wheels, even though we were quite spread out. He always gladly gave of his time and resources to make sure everyone was included in our activities.
Phil never complaining about having limitations, but showing humility, determination and grit.
Phil listening to me sing and play my guitar or read my latest poem. He was my biggest fan, perhaps my only fan, back then.
Phil's righteous indignation when his boss expected him to overcharge for repairs and sabotage the vehicles he worked on so customers would need additional repairs. Phil refused, of course and was mistreated for it until he finally quit the job.
Phil gathering the YSA's and missionaries at his apartment each week for lessons and firesides as he prepared for his mission. Making a safe space for new and reactivating members to ask questions, learn the gospel and build their testimonies.
Phil encouraging me to go on splits with the sisters to help overcome my shyness and gain confidence as I prepared for my own mission.
Phil cheering me on and understanding the challenges of my non-member family's disapproval and them doing all they could to dissuade me from serving because it wasn't easy for him to go, either.
Phil setting the example. Working diligently on his mission, writing to me weekly, giving me a good idea of what to expect. Letters filled with testimony, encouragement, wisdom, spiritual experiences, growth, humility and joy.
Phil getting home a few months before me, meeting Karen, falling in love with her beautiful, kind, gentle self, marrying her and heading out to Utah just days before I made it home. How I wished we could have said goodbye.
Phil, you were the big brother I always wanted and while we rarely seen one another these last 37 years, it felt like old times when we did. I'm sorry for the pain you had to endure at the end, but I'm so excited that you've shed the shell that caused you so much grief over the years. I'll miss you, my friend, but I'll try not to cry because I'm truly happy that you're one step closer to having that perfected, immortal body. Joy be unto you until we meet again!
