Gilbert Leon (Lee) Martin

Gilbert Leon (Lee) Martin made his transition peacefully at home on January 6, 2026 surrounded by family and his little yorkie Gypsy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day. Lee was born in Artesia, New Mexico on February 8, 1945 to Wallace B and Catherine Martin. He saw beauty in the world around him and created it with all those around him. He created beauty in the stories he told and the passion he showed in his life.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. Lee grew up in Grand Junction, CO and sang a capella in the barbershop quartet and choir. He was not afraid to state his feelings and make those he loved laugh and help them to enjoy life. He was consistent in all things, especially in getting his ice cream with grandchildren and after every dinner.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic. After finishing his degree in 1967, Lee left for the Airforce where he served 24 years and retired as a Lieutenant Colonel. His love for his wife, Jackie, is parallel to none. He loved exploring the world and sharing his experiences in the form of stories for those who could not experience it with him.

I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. Losing Lee has left a hole in all the hearts of those who called him Poppy, Grandpa Lee, Brother, Husband, friend or family. He is survived by his wife Jackie Sue Holt; his siblings Bill (Shelly) Martin, Don (Suzanne) Martin, and Lavonne Wilson; his daughters Leah Anne Steele, Mina (Greg) Clark; and step sons Daniel (Susan) Moreno, David (Tawny) Moreno, James Moreno and Curt Moreno; grandchildren Mitchell Clark, Galen Clark, Colleen Clark, Juan Moreno, Jacob Moreno, Kayla Steele, Megan Steele, Zion Moreno, Jacob (Kaitlin) VanOmmen, Amarri Larson, Paizley Moreno, Dimitri Larson, Prayer Moreno, Bailey and Anthony DiCamillo; great grandchildren Wyanet DiCamillo, Jaeger Nay, Emily Moreno, Skye Collins, and Annie Moreno. Lee is preceded in death by his parents and grandchildren Melanie Moreno and Prestley Moreno.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. Though we cannot call him when we need advice, we can still talk to him and know he is with us. We can still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes, because he will be with us throughout our losses and wins.”

Lee and Jackie’s Wedding Vows on November 28, 1997:

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing, It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic. Remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.' It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here, I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments