Mike Lyon died last week.
I have been hit with so many emotions. We grew up in the same area of Provo, Utah, though he was a few years older than I and lived a few streets away. We dated. I suppose we would call it dating, but it was more of a sweet friendship . He didn’t drive and I was terrified of driving. There is so much power in that gas pedal! We went to something in Salt Lake City and I drove us there. I remember entering the highway traffic with my eyes closed tight so that if we crashed, at least I wouldn’t see it.
Oh, the memories which have come as I process the death of this dear friend. I remember his room, which was more of a sanctuary, organized and inspired by the LDS mission he had served in Japan. His art, whether forms of architecture, caligraphy, or other visual representations, was simply beautiful. Simple and beautiful. I also remember his mother calling her children to watch The Muppet Show. What an interesting juxtaposition of fun and ritual was in that home!
I made a terrible mistake in 1979 and married someone who (I have become convinced) had an out-of-control amygdala and truly could not control his anger. We had a wedding reception. I don’t remember whether Mike came to the reception or not, but his parents did, and his mother said to mine, “I am just sick about this. I told Michael that he needed to be more assertive.”
The marriage hit its first sharp rocks within two weeks, and became worse and worse until it was a drawn-out trauma. During one separation, I was on the BYU campus and saw Mike. He asked how married life was and I told him. I don’t know how much I revealed, but it was more than I told most people. My marriage was failing and I was undone. I believe Mike’s response was just, “I have something I want to give you.”
What he gave me–was it the next day or the next week?–was a gold-leafed, gorgeously printed scripture, 8×10, with a unique stamp of art he had created. I can picture it in my mind, though I can’t recall the scripture itself, and I don’t know what happened to it. I know that I took it with me as I attempted to save my marriage one more time and that I read it often. It strengthened me not just because the words were powerful but because this was a gift from Mike Lyon, who seemed to love me unconditionally.
I have no idea if I broke Mike’s heart when I got married, but I think his heart broke for me when my marriage failed.
The last time I saw him was at the BYU Bookstore a few years ago. He called my name and I looked towards the sound. There he was, Mike Lyon! He told me that he had lost most of his sight so that he couldn’t really see me, but that he had heard my voice and recognized it.
Michael Lyon was one who recognized many voices, including divine ones. He always made me feel loved. In our single years, he would see me after Sunday school and say something like, “She walks in beauty like the night.”
This is an inadequate tribute. And I am so sad that I have no pictures of Michael and me.
I will admit that after I ended my marriage, I wondered why I hadn’t seen Michael more clearly when we were young and single. He worked so quietly and humbly that many of us did not really notice his greatness and goodness. In this post-mortem tribute (and I should mention that I have been happily married to Bruce Young for thirty-seven years), I want to bear witness that we just lost someone who knew his Savior and was known by Him.
I also believe in angelic help and would love to be aided in our missionary work by the great Mike Lyon.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In