Gregory Lee Merriman

A memory of Gregory

Dad showing off his grinch slippers from the Merriman’s.

A memory of Gregory

Dad meeting Hailee for the first time.

A memory of Gregory

This is from my dad: My mom canned a lot of tomatoes and loved tomatoes. From her love, I began to love tomatoes. I would sit on our back porch with my salt shaker. When I left home, I had pretty much given up on tomatoes. I then learned how much Debbie loved tomatoes, so every year I grew tomatoes for her. I really got pretty good at it. Now it’s not just Debbie who loves tomatoes. Most of the family loves them. Over the years, I have improved on the system. How to do it. I really like mountain magic tomatoes. Number one, on March 25th, seed tomatoes. Water with a squirt bottle every day. Have drain holes so you don’t overwater. Number two, about April 15th, plant out in the plant boxes. If it is going to freeze, cover with a plastic tote. Water plants from the roots. Don’t sprinkle. Wet plants will have disease problems. Tomatoes need more water than peppers do. Number three, now put the cages on and let them grow. Any part of the plant that grows over the cage will not ripen, but they do waste energy. Number four, now sit back and wait, always keeping the roots good and damp. Number five, by about the 15th of August, you should have some very good tomatoes. (In parentheses, if you don’t follow the rules, you can buy some subpar tomatoes at the local store.)

A memory of Gregory

Cancer 3: Before Christmas, my dad went to the doctor where she told him that they had found that his liver had stopped functioning. They would be able to get him through Christmas and after that, it would take about two weeks and he would die. So we all rallied together and we made sure that we all got to spend time with my dad and my dad got to work. My dad got to work on making sure that this time when he went, we would be prepared for tomatoes.

A memory of Gregory

Cancer 2:   In February of 2025, my dad went into the hospital. He had a fever and the beginning signs of pneumonia. He got, he continued to decline and his fever continued. All cultures were coming back negative, and so after the doctors had done everything that they could do and said that there was nothing else that they could do, we brought my dad home. He was completely delirious. He knew our family members, but he could not tell what was real and what wasn’t. He had a complete inability to raise his hands to his face or move his limbs without assistance. We had him in a hospital bed and we were talking about hospice. On March 3rd, my mom called us in and we all came to see my dad that night because my mom did not believe he would make it through the night. In March, there was still no change since leaving the hospital. We had, as we prepared for my dad’s death, we had been reassuring him that we would be okay when he was gone. It was, of course, a complete lie, but we were telling him what he needed to hear to be at peace. He started to recover from his delirium and get more and more like himself, but he was still not moving much, still in the hospital bed, unable to walk, and he had no appetite for any food. We had been telling my dad that we were taking care of his tomato plants. For my dad, growing tomatoes has always been one of his love languages for us. My dad likes tomatoes fine, but there are other people in the family who love it. We love fresh sliced tomatoes, tomatoes dipped in ranch. We love salsa made from fresh homemade tomatoes. So it has always been a priority of my dad’s to make sure that we always have tomatoes grown by him during tomato season. And throughout the years, many times, he has tried to get us to grow our own tomatoes. He has got the seeds started and he has given us plants once they are big enough that it would be hard to kill them. And we have all tried with varying levels of success, but usually not ending well. My dad had started the tomato seeds for us this year, and he had gotten them growing. And when he came home from the hospital, it became all of our priorities to make my dad comfortable and happy, and it was taking so much time and energy from all of us. And so, we put poor little Mac, our then 10 or 11-year-old grandson, nephew, son, in charge of watering the tomato plants. And needless to say, those little plants were not high on our priority list. Period. As my dad started to feel more like himself, he kept asking us about the tomato plants, and we would lie, and we would tell him they were doing great, and we were on top of it, and we would take care of it, and he didn’t have to worry about them because we had it under control. We did not. He finally asked us to bring him the tomato plants so that he could see them. What my mom brought out was containers full of teeny-tiny, dead and dying tomato plants, the plants he had slaved over and grown from seeds. Period. In an amazing turn of events, which I’m sure is not related at all to those tomato plants, my dad started exercising in bed. He started taking an appetite stimulant after several weeks of goodbyes, and on Wednesday, March 26th, Greg walked to the couch with a walker. Period. We credit the tomato seeds with saving my dad’s life.

A memory of Gregory

Cancer Story:   When my dad got cancer, I flew to Nauvoo where they were living, and we were going to make a slow trek home after my dad had done the temple work for his parents. But on Thursday, my dad woke up totally broken, physically and emotionally. He felt exceptionally bad and felt like things were turning for the worse where his cancer was concerned. We had been waiting for weeks for the results of a liver biopsy to determine some specifics about the cancer so that his doctor could determine if we had a treatment course. Other than knowing he had cancer in his liver and spleen, they only knew what it was not. Not colon cancer, not stomach cancer, not, not, not. It has been hard not having any more answers, but specifically Thursday was a bad day. Greg cried as he told my mom, I’m going to die and I’m not going to get to see my kids and grandkids before I go. He really wasn’t sure if he would make it through the day. I had got in the night before to help because dad had gotten so weak that my mom needed some help. But my dad just wanted to go home to our family. In 45 minutes, my mom and I packed up some personal belongings into the van, set up a bed in the back for my dad and got in the car headed for Washington on the road by 9am. We drove straight through, only stopping for fuel, bathrooms, and emergencies. There were times that we helped my dad out of the car where he was so weak that he could barely walk on his own. We had to stop at a hospital on our first night. We were driving through the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, and my dad said he thought he was dying. So I quickly Google searched and found that we had passed a hospital not 10 minutes before. It was in some little itty-bitty town, the smallest hospital that we have ever seen. It was dilapidated and run down, and sketchy would be a fair assessment. The hospital staff included one nurse, one office person, a custodian, and an on-call doctor. We told them we just wanted to get Greg back to see his kids and grandkids. They all said, then let’s get you home. I waited out in the car, in the snow, with the two dogs snuggling next to me and keeping me warm, while inside, they infused my dad with a bag of IV fluids, told us good luck, gave us some snacks, and sent us on our way. In and out in about 40 minutes. They were all so sweet and supportive. It’s one of those things where we kept thinking, was that even real? We arrived in Washington about 2 a.m. on Saturday morning. It was a long and crazy drive with basically no sleep. At one point, I was getting so tired and I reached over to shake my mom awake to see if she was able to drive. And she told me she physically could not get her eyes to open. So I turned on the air conditioner. I slapped myself in the face a few times and I kept driving. The weather was right behind us the entire time. We passed through trucks that had slid off the road from snow that had come just before we’d driven through. We heard of warnings that were on their way, but for us, the roads were clear and dry. Me and my mom agree that there were so many little miracles along the way, and we know that the Lord was with us every moment.   My dad was so weak by the time that we got home that Brett had to carry him into the house. When they got home, they found that all of the siblings had come together, siblings and in-laws had come together to decorate the house for Christmas. There were pictures and memories of the kids and grandkids everywhere. Everyone had participated in making everything perfect. They both fell asleep after they visited with Brett and Mary. The next day, my dad woke up and he ate something for the first time in a week.

A memory of Gregory

From Brett: I was just remembering our pinecone fights waiting for the school bus and paintballing behind the barn, and you taking us to get new birds, and our bike rides and runs at night, and our Thorbeck squash ball sessions, our fish tanks together, and you jumping into birds again with me. I will never be able to put into words what those moments meant to me. You have been a perfect father. I don’t look up to anyone, but I look up to you. You set the perfect example of what it is to be a father, and I will always strive to be more like you. I know it sounds goofy, but words cannot describe the amount of appreciation I have for you. I love you so much, and I will miss you every second of my life.

A memory of Gregory

From Julie: I always thought that dad was a quiet guy. He went to work, helped around the house, took us to the bus stop, but he always did things quietly. He seemed to always be thinking about stuff but didn’t really talk a ton. However, when I was 15 and a newly permitted driver, we had to make the trip to Pullman, I think to visit Liz at her new house. I was terrified. What the heck was I gonna talk to dad about for six hours? But that car trip, he teased me about my bad driving. Remember, I was a new driver on windy roads. He told me stories about his college days, and we had the best time ever laughing and joking. I learned that day that while dad was quiet, he had all kinds of things to say. And from that point on, I made sure to chat with him more because getting to know my dad was one of the highlights of my life. He taught me things not only through his quiet strength, but also through his words.

A memory of Gregory

From Nathan: My favorite memories with Dad were driving around in tractors with him as a child. He would always take me on rides and take me to work with him. We had the unique opportunity to live where he worked and he was always around us. It was a great childhood with many happy memories.

A memory of Gregory

From Elisabeth: Growing up, my favorite time with my dad was when we were little and at bedtime. My mom would read to us from the family room while we had both of our bedroom doors open so all the kids could hear the story, and during the winter we could feel the heat coming from the fireplace. Afterwards, my dad would lay in the bedroom with us on the floor with his feet against the door so that we couldn’t escape because we always needed one more drink of water or we forgot to give mom a third hug or whatever our little brains could think of. He would lay there with us and visit with us, tell us to go to sleep, and every night before we went to sleep, he would give us tickle kisses. His tickle kisses consisted of his pokey beard that had grown throughout the day, and he would kiss us all over our faces and all over our necks, and it would tickle so much and we would scream and laugh and try and get away. He would tell us stories about his childhood on the farm, and he would make up stories. He always had ideas about new stories. My dad was also always growing things at summers on the farm. When I worked there as an irrigator with many of the cousins, I would come home at lunchtime and I would eat apples off the trees and tomatoes off the vines. We would pick strawberries out of the yard and blueberries from the plants he was growing. We had a rose bush in the front yard, and every year the first bloom that came onto the rose bush, my dad would bring in and give to my mom. I can’t think about my dad without thinking about things growing. I also remember him, every morning, with his scriptures open. He would read them every morning before he went to work.

Debbie loves Greg

Dear Greg, When I looked for a husband, I was looking for a good dad for my future children. I not only got a good one, I got the best one. If my sons grow up to treat their wives like you treat me, I know that we will have made the world a better and greater place. If our girls can just be half as responsible and caring as you are, I’ll know we’ve done something right, and I think we have. I don’t think our kids will ever grow up doubting whether or not their dad loved them. Every concern in your life always comes back to the same little circle, our family. Thank you for all that you do for us, which I know is everything you do. Your love has always been for us and what’s best for our family. I love you. I’m proud of you for the things you accomplished in life. I love the fact that you, the dad that you are to our kids, the traits you try to instill in them, and the many sacrifices you make to make our life easier and happier. I know I say it over and over, but you are the best decision I ever made in my life. Never any regrets. Never. Thank you for your love of God. You are so strong in the church. Your strength has held me up too many times to count. Thank you for believing in me when I have been all consumed with doubt about myself. You never quit believing in me. I’ve never loved a human being as much as I love you. I don’t even believe it’s possible. Thank you for making my life, our life, so complete. Happy Father’s Day. With all my love, Debbie.

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Nathan and Amanda's wedding.

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Baby Leah

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Grandpa and Coco feeling a little Grinchy.

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Demetrius and Alanna's adoption.

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Drew and Carter's blessing.

Amanda Merriman 1w

A memory of Gregory

Nauvoo!