with fond memory

My mom called last night and, with a tremble in her voice, told me, "President Hinckley died this evening." She cried, and I cried, and when I told Blake, who was reading in bed next to me, we cried. And, even though I know we all felt peaceful about it, how could we not? He's the prophet I grew up with. He's the man who planted temples throughout the world for me to visit as I've moved across the country. I am sad for myself because I will miss his firmly gentle admonitions and optimistic charisma. But my testimony of eternal families leaps to a new level as I imagine the happy reunion he now enjoys in the arms of his beloved wife.

President Gordon B. Hinckley
1910-2008