Orem • As Alan Osmond’s eight sons took a moment to talk about their father, they described him as larger than life.

“As we’re having literally a family reunion inside,” David Osmond said, “we’re reflecting on all the stories of an incredible man.”

They recounted some of those stories as they talked about their father during the service, keeping their remarks to three minutes – something Donny Osmond said would please his brother, the “consummate producer.”

Alan’s legacy lives on, David said.

“He set the bar so high,” he said of his father. “We hope that we can reach those heights and keep pushing the limits to carry that torch forward in his honor.”

Alan, the oldest singing member of Utah’s Osmond family, who also turned Brigham Young University’s football stadium into a Fourth of July extravaganza, died last month at 76.

Before his hearse was marched into the Spanish Fork Cemetery by bagpipes and he was honored by a three-volley rifle salute and a fireworks show so loud it set off a car alarm and a round of cheers and chuckles, he was remembered as constantly positive.

Donny recalled FaceTiming recently with Alan while he was in Vegas in a room with David and Glenn Beck. Alan asked to talk with Beck and, after giving his testimony, had one more thing to say.

Alan knew he was going to pass soon, Donny said, and told Beck he was going to find Adam and Eve and tell them “one bad apple don’t spoil the whole bunch” – referencing a song by The Osmonds.

He faced death with “zero fear,” said Scott Osmond, one of Alan’s middle sons.

Scott recalled walking an extra lap around the halls of the hospital while he was visiting him and Alan almost falling when they got back to his room.

After they had a moment of looking at each other and processing, Alan started dancing and made up a little song about almost falling to his death, Scott said.

“He could make a tough moment light,” he said, and always focused on the positive.

The family emphasized the service was a celebration of life, not a funeral.

Alan “does not want this to be a downer,” his eldest son, Mike Osmond, said.

“He loved people. He loved life,” Mike said. “He was happy, always, no matter what was going on.”

There were some solemn moments, like when David had the family do a count off they did from one to 10 before they left to go anywhere to make sure everyone was there. Alan was 10 – and there was silence when they got to him.

“It’s in the silence that we hear him,” David said.

But there was also music and laughter.

David joked that Donny had one job after he said the eight sons were going to be singing a hymn everyone had just sung instead of the song they actually would sing.

Nathan Osmond laughed as he said they’re “all mini Alans.” Doug Osmond joked he got the best hair.

And they all came back to his positivity, even amid 40 years with multiple sclerosis, and his faith.

He was tough, David said, but spelled it like “tuff” – an anagram for target, understand, focus, fight. He started by asking about what he could do, Jon Osmond said, not why things were happening. And his challenges didn’t define him, Alex Osmund said, but refined him instead.

He lived a life of faith, his sons said, and “a life of greatest hits,” David said.

“We stand on the shoulders of a giant,” Nathan said before the service.