Wade S. Geary

Our beloved husband, son, grandson, father, brother and dear friend, Wade Geary, 47, died this week due to complications of Polycystic Kidney Disease.  He was born December 19, 1969 to Paulette Brimley.  He was raised in Layton and Farmington, Utah where he attended Davis High School.  

Wade was a prolific student, receiving numerous awards, recognitions and accolades including winning the International Science Fair and being honored as a Sterling Scholar in Science.

He later attended the University of Utah where he worked on the human genome project.  In addition, Wade was a writer and poet, writing many poems and short stories which appeared in literary and other publications.

Wade married Diane Davis in November 1989, who was the love of his life, and which he cared for tirelessly during her three-year battle with cancer.

Generous and always quick to offer help and words of encouragement, Wade was a free, and kind-hearted, spirit who gave freely of his time, expecting nothing in return.  During his life, he touched many lives in a positive way.  As one of his dear friends said, "He lived life his way, while helping all that he encountered along the way."

Surviving is his daughter, Candy Davis; mother, Paulette Brimley; father, David Cunningham; sister, Cristal VanDongen and her husband Lance; the Buchanan clan , in particular Alcuin and Owain, and other brothers- and sisters-in-law, uncles, aunts and cousins, too numerous to name, and many other long-time dear friends.

He will never be forgotten and sorely missed by all who knew him.  

He is preceded in death by his grandparents, one uncle and his dear sweet wife, Diane, to whom he was married for 26 years.

A wake will be held Tuesday, April 11 from 6:00 PM to 8:00 PM at Starks Funeral Parlor, 3651 South 900 East, Salt Lake City. Guests are encouraged to use complimentary valet parking on the north side of the building. 

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

–  Mary Elizabeth Frye