In earthly years, my oldest son would be 38 Years old in the early morning hours of Jan. 5, 1979. It is still difficult to have full concept of that, especially at my age when I will soon be with him. That is of course if St. Peter's Elevator goes up rather "topsy turby". That word doesn't even show up on my spell checker, and I have no idea where she went so fast. (ole joke of Uncle Hy Tolley!) I miss my son and constant pal greatly, but aware of him, as I often feel his presence, He had enormous love for other people, regardless of who or what they were, as well all of God's animals on earth. He always came on the deer hunt in Nephi with the Jones gang; got a license, but was not particularly interested in shooting a Buck, and heavily grieved when I told him to shoot the big one that was snoozing on top of "Jones' Knoll". I thought it was just a temporary "Buck Fever", but later came to the full knowledge he was just not in to the "kill" tactic that 3 of his Uncles were forced to do in War time. Me and two brothers still go on the annual deer hunt, but never get a license and don't carry a gun. Perhaps, my brothers and sister and I have come full circle, as none of us shoot to kill animals anymore, even little brother Gary B., who was one of the best hunting and fishing guides in Alaska, before he became a racer in the Iditarod, where nobody cares for their mutts better than those Mushers'. Or, perhaps all 5 of the Nephi Jones' stopped hunting as all are in the twilight of our time on earth, much like Alma Jones was at age 83. I also gave up a career of toting guns for a living. Whatever the reason, this father still grieves the loss of a great son, whose career was helping to save the lives of those people needing a less radical and invasive way requiring open heart surgery. He traveled to Ireland to assist the safety of the transcatheter aortic valve replacement (TAVR}. So after his parents divorced, and Justin himself when through two failed marriage's and about every type of counseling, which financially broke his mother and father, he obtained a high powered handgun and shot himself twice in the head. I knew that it was a done deal he had made with God the day before when he came to visit. The 150 year old Family Clock stopped at 9;30 P.M. and like the old MIA song; "Never To Go Again".
