It is an unusually warm spring day in May. Here I stand on the sledding hill—a place that once symbolized the carefree playfulness of my childhood. How many times had I rushed to this very spot, racing my cousins to the bottom on our Walmart shark special snowboards? Today, even with the sunshine, there’s a sense of winter in the air as we lay my grandpa in the ground.
I’m lost in thought, recalling how just yesterday I was lecturing Oliver, “It’s time to go to school. We’re late, it’s five after eight! Where is your backpack? Why are your socks not matching?”
Then there are these fleeting moments in life that offer a pause from the repetition that comes with living. Ironically, death is one of those eye opening moments when we are granted an opportunity to stop the turning of time. Time is a slippery character, like sand that slips through your fingers no matter how hard you work to hold on to it, but let go and watch as it settles onto the shore. And in those moments when life gives us a pause, whether it’s the silence after a loved one’s passing or the awe from a perfect sunset painted with pinks and purples, we are reminded to cherish the absurdity and beauty of every ticking second of this too short life.
Today, I’m going to hug my son and not let go. It’s going to be one of those hugs where he says, “Mom, I can’t breathe!” I’m going to listen to him recount his day, without rushing him to finish because I’m too tired, knowing he’s only stalling bedtime. I’m going to sit on a blanket under a tree, marveling at how harmoniously they coexist, as a reminder of the person I hope to be.
Charles Dallas Harris, 90, of Clark Fork, Idaho, passed away peacefully on May 7, 2024, at home, in the arms of his family. Born on February 25, 1934, to David Daniel Harris and Mary Jane Cochran Harris, Charlie grew up with a lively household alongside his siblings James, Hazel, Edgar, Peggy, Helen, Ernie, Richard, and Robert—all of whom passed prior to him. Charlie was cherished for his lively spirit, his affectionate “whiskering” kisses, and his quick wit, leaving behind laughter and love where he went.
Charles married Betty Louise Bell in 1957, with whom he had two sons, Donald Allen and Richard Edward. The marriage ended in divorce and later, Charles remarried Anna Mary Gabriel in 1967. Together, they raised three daughters: Mary Jane, Nancy Carol, and Susan Kimberly.
A skilled roofer and logger, Charles was an adventurer whose work took him from commercial rooftops in Cuba to historical renovations and even north to Alaska—where one of his grandchildren tried to sneak into his suitcase to tag along. He owned a long haul trucking company, worked on lighthouses along the West Coast, and maintained lookout towers. Whether on top a ladder, a roof, or a mountain, he was happiest with the sky above and a challenge beneath his hands.
As a member of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, Charles contributed by building and maintaining the local church. His faith was evident in his everyday life; he often shared his excitement about Jesus’s second coming, and most nights, he would remind his sweetheart Anna, “I’ll meet you at the feet of Jesus.”
He leaves behind his wife, his five children, numerous grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews; many of whom also reflect his stubbornness and zest for life, traits that have become a Harris family legacy. As we say goodbye to Grandpa Charlie, we remember his favorite farewell, ‘We’ll see you down the road a piece”.
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