Ah, dad. My dad. The greatest man I know. I think this quote from Thomas. S. Monson really sums it up nicely:
"Let us reflect gratitude for our fathers. Father . . . is ever willing to sacrifice his own comfort for that of his children. Daily he toils to provide the necessities of life, never complaining, ever concerned for the well-being of his family. This love for (his) children, this desire to see them well and happy, is a constant in a time of change."
It all comes down to this:
No matter where I am I know my dad will be there for me.
No matter what happens I know my dad will listen to me.
No matter what sort of situations may occur I know my dad loves me.
And that makes all the difference. I love you, dad! Happy Father's Day!!
Sunday, June 19
Saturday, June 18
A Tribute to My Father - Day Six
Whenever I went anywhere as a young teenager my dad would make sure I didn't leave the house without handing me a couple of quarters and making sure I put them in my shoe. He said, "No matter where you are tonight, no matter what you do; if you get into a situation where you need someone to come and pick you up, you call me and I will be there. I don't care what time it is or what the circumstance is. I will be there." I walked around with quarters in my shoe for a long time, and it was a constant reminder that no matter what, my dad would come and get me. I never did use the quarters, but it was nice to know they were there should I have needed them.
After graduation I went with a few friends of mine for a fun filled weekend of partying. My family was at the ceremony, and then they left to go back home. I hung out at the school for a little while with my friends, then went back home to change. To my surprise there was an envelope sitting on top of the television that had my name on it. I could tell right away it was my dad's handwriting. I opened up the envelope and found a note with $20.00 inside. It said, "Have a fun night. Love, Dad" It really meant a lot to me because I knew how much $20.00 meant to our family, and to him. It was so sweet that he would sacrifice for me to have some spending money.
My dad used to tease me when I was little that I talked so fast he could hardly understand me. He told me I talked like the man on the Micro Machine commercials. Here's an example for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about:
I remember once we had moved from Las Vegas to Southern California and my dad had to go back to tie up some loose ends. He decided to take me along on the trip. Just me! I was so excited. We left so early in the morning and I didn't get my clothes ready the day before so we were late in starting out. I think I was in second or third grade so I ended up grabbing the closest clothes I could find because I didn't want my dad to change his mind and leave me behind. I realized the next day that I grabbed an old pair of jeans that didn't fit me anymore and so I had to walk around with tight pants on that wouldn't button. I think I read practically every sign from California to Las Vegas and I must have told a thousand stories to my dad during that time. He had to tell me quite a few times to slow down and I'm sure eventually he told me it was time to be quiet. The drive was probably about four or five hours, but that's a long time to be in the car with a little girl spurting out her every last story and dream and hope just in order to keep talking to her dad. To this day I still enjoy talking with him. We have a lot in common and I greatly enjoy his company, though I don't talk nearly as fast anymore. :)
After graduation I went with a few friends of mine for a fun filled weekend of partying. My family was at the ceremony, and then they left to go back home. I hung out at the school for a little while with my friends, then went back home to change. To my surprise there was an envelope sitting on top of the television that had my name on it. I could tell right away it was my dad's handwriting. I opened up the envelope and found a note with $20.00 inside. It said, "Have a fun night. Love, Dad" It really meant a lot to me because I knew how much $20.00 meant to our family, and to him. It was so sweet that he would sacrifice for me to have some spending money.
My dad used to tease me when I was little that I talked so fast he could hardly understand me. He told me I talked like the man on the Micro Machine commercials. Here's an example for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about:
I remember once we had moved from Las Vegas to Southern California and my dad had to go back to tie up some loose ends. He decided to take me along on the trip. Just me! I was so excited. We left so early in the morning and I didn't get my clothes ready the day before so we were late in starting out. I think I was in second or third grade so I ended up grabbing the closest clothes I could find because I didn't want my dad to change his mind and leave me behind. I realized the next day that I grabbed an old pair of jeans that didn't fit me anymore and so I had to walk around with tight pants on that wouldn't button. I think I read practically every sign from California to Las Vegas and I must have told a thousand stories to my dad during that time. He had to tell me quite a few times to slow down and I'm sure eventually he told me it was time to be quiet. The drive was probably about four or five hours, but that's a long time to be in the car with a little girl spurting out her every last story and dream and hope just in order to keep talking to her dad. To this day I still enjoy talking with him. We have a lot in common and I greatly enjoy his company, though I don't talk nearly as fast anymore. :)
Friday, June 17
A Tribute to My Father - Day Five
My dad is an honest, hard working man. I know there must have been times when he could have cheated on something, told a small lie, or done something sneaky to get ahead and get more money for his family, but he never did. My dad had a lot of mouths to feed, and some of the jobs he had weren't what others could call glamorous, but he never sat idly by while his family struggled. Whenever we needed something, and I mean the true meaning of "needed", he always did his best to make sure we had it. Sometimes my dad had to work odd hours and difficult schedules, but I always remember my dad being there at home, and for that I am so grateful to him.
My dad is also very selfless. He used to (and still does) drive us EVERYWHERE, and sometimes that would require three or four trips, but my dad did it. I remember once we had only a small two door hatchback Honda to get us around in. For the most part it worked just fine for my dad to get to and from work and run errands and such. However, whenever someone needed to go somewhere, it was more often than not the case that there were several others that needed to go as well, so my dad would take the first load then come back and take a second load to a different place and then come back and take a third load to somewhere else altogether. And just when he thought he could take a little break it was time to go start picking everyone up. Looking back now I just don't know how that man ever got any rest. If I have never said it before, dad, thank you so much for being so selfless and taking me to where ever I needed to go.
My dad is a spiritual man, as well. He taught us the gospel, and taught us to pray and serve in the church. I remember a few times when he taught my Sunday School class and my seminary class. Most people would have been embarrassed that their fathers were teaching, but I loved his lessons. He liked to go on these little tangents and he would always get so excited, but then he realized that some of the stuff he was getting excited about was a little over our heads and he would go back to the lesson. It is great to see him get that twinkle in his eye when he speaks of spiritual matters. Church and religion were serious matters, but my dad knew how to incorporate a little fun, too. I remember when I was getting ready to be baptized when I was eight my toe stuck out of the water, so we had to do it again. I remember looking at my dad and whispering "Dad? Can you step on my toe so it won't come out again?" He just smiled and said sure. He did it, too. You ask my dad to do something like that and, well, let's just say you don't have to ask him twice. He was always willing to teach a lesson in church, give a talk, serve the members, and help those in need. He still is, and I love that example. He has sacrificed so much for our family but you would never hear that from him because he is so humble. I am so grateful for everything he has done for us. I love you, dad!
My dad is also very selfless. He used to (and still does) drive us EVERYWHERE, and sometimes that would require three or four trips, but my dad did it. I remember once we had only a small two door hatchback Honda to get us around in. For the most part it worked just fine for my dad to get to and from work and run errands and such. However, whenever someone needed to go somewhere, it was more often than not the case that there were several others that needed to go as well, so my dad would take the first load then come back and take a second load to a different place and then come back and take a third load to somewhere else altogether. And just when he thought he could take a little break it was time to go start picking everyone up. Looking back now I just don't know how that man ever got any rest. If I have never said it before, dad, thank you so much for being so selfless and taking me to where ever I needed to go.
My dad is a spiritual man, as well. He taught us the gospel, and taught us to pray and serve in the church. I remember a few times when he taught my Sunday School class and my seminary class. Most people would have been embarrassed that their fathers were teaching, but I loved his lessons. He liked to go on these little tangents and he would always get so excited, but then he realized that some of the stuff he was getting excited about was a little over our heads and he would go back to the lesson. It is great to see him get that twinkle in his eye when he speaks of spiritual matters. Church and religion were serious matters, but my dad knew how to incorporate a little fun, too. I remember when I was getting ready to be baptized when I was eight my toe stuck out of the water, so we had to do it again. I remember looking at my dad and whispering "Dad? Can you step on my toe so it won't come out again?" He just smiled and said sure. He did it, too. You ask my dad to do something like that and, well, let's just say you don't have to ask him twice. He was always willing to teach a lesson in church, give a talk, serve the members, and help those in need. He still is, and I love that example. He has sacrificed so much for our family but you would never hear that from him because he is so humble. I am so grateful for everything he has done for us. I love you, dad!
Thursday, June 16
A Tribute to My Father - Day Four
My dad is sarcastic and loves to joke around. I think I got my sense of humor from him as well because it is so easy to joke around with my dad. Sometimes I can tell just by looking at him what he is about to say. Those are great times.
When I was a kid we used to try and have a family activity each Monday night. It was called Family Home Evening, and we would read a scripture, have a prayer, sing a song, have a short spiritual lesson, then an activity and lastly we would have dessert. It always started out well enough, but inevitably somewhere someone would make some sort of joke which would cause my dad to laugh and then everyone else would burst out laughing and the jokes would start flying. I think we all figured that if my dad was laughing then it was truly funny and nothing else really mattered. Well, as you can guess it almost always ended with someone upset and then the spirit of Family Home Evening would pretty much be destroyed and some of us would get in trouble. But I thought it was worth it if it got my dad laughing. He has a good laugh.
In church he liked to say he would help hold up the hymn book so both of us could read the words and sing. Without fail he would shake the book to make it hard to read the words. Or, it would be in the middle of the hymn and he would suddenly drop his side of the book backward to where you had to lunge forward to keep it from crashing into the person in front of you. He always got the biggest kick out of doing that, and I must say I've done that very same thing to my husband a few times in church myself.
When I was younger, we had this yellow Volkswagen bus that I hated with a passion. I was always worried about cars breaking down and getting in an accident. I don't know why I always worried so much about this since I wasn't in my first accident until I was 15, but that's beside the point. My dad loved that bus. When I was a young kid my sister and I used to pretend we were the Dukes of Hazard and we would jump through the windows to get into the bus. My dad didn't like us doing that, but we thought it was awesome. He was always working on our cars and was very good at fixing problems with them. One time I remember that the clutch broke as we were driving down the road. My dad stopped, grabbed some rope from the back of the bus and somehow tied up the clutch so he could make it work enough to get us back home. I will never forget seeing the road whiz by through the hole in the bottom of the floor where the clutch was and praying to God that the rope wouldn't burst into flames or break and we would get home safe. I still remember my dad with the biggest smile on his face, not bothered by the situation at all.
My dad loved scaring the crap out of us, too, especially in the bus. We used to live up in the mountains of Southern California and there was this really high and long hill we had to travel down to get into the main part of the city. Whenever we had to go anywhere at night, we would all load up into the bus and my dad would start to drive down the mountain. Once he got to the road, one of his favorite things to do was turn off the headlights, floor it down the road, and scream a blood curdling scream at the top of his lungs as we careened down the road. It was pitch black outside, the bus was loaded with all the kids and my parents, and we were flying down this super tall road at top speed. Of course we all screamed for our lives! Sheer panic are the only words I can think of to describe those times. We were little kids, too, and there were practically a million of us. Can you imagine, just for a second, what a Volkswagen bus full of small kids screaming for their very lives sounded like? The bus was almost gutted out on the inside, so there wasn't any padding to insulate the screams from all our little lungs. This joke by my father would ALWAYS end up with at least half of us crying, some laughing hysterically, and my mother being vehemently angry with my father. This is a memory I will never forget. Many years later the bus finally died. I know my dad misses it, but I was so happy to see it go. What prompts my dad to do stuff like that I may never know, but I can assure you that growing up was both fun and petrifying. :) I love you, dad!
When I was a kid we used to try and have a family activity each Monday night. It was called Family Home Evening, and we would read a scripture, have a prayer, sing a song, have a short spiritual lesson, then an activity and lastly we would have dessert. It always started out well enough, but inevitably somewhere someone would make some sort of joke which would cause my dad to laugh and then everyone else would burst out laughing and the jokes would start flying. I think we all figured that if my dad was laughing then it was truly funny and nothing else really mattered. Well, as you can guess it almost always ended with someone upset and then the spirit of Family Home Evening would pretty much be destroyed and some of us would get in trouble. But I thought it was worth it if it got my dad laughing. He has a good laugh.
In church he liked to say he would help hold up the hymn book so both of us could read the words and sing. Without fail he would shake the book to make it hard to read the words. Or, it would be in the middle of the hymn and he would suddenly drop his side of the book backward to where you had to lunge forward to keep it from crashing into the person in front of you. He always got the biggest kick out of doing that, and I must say I've done that very same thing to my husband a few times in church myself.
When I was younger, we had this yellow Volkswagen bus that I hated with a passion. I was always worried about cars breaking down and getting in an accident. I don't know why I always worried so much about this since I wasn't in my first accident until I was 15, but that's beside the point. My dad loved that bus. When I was a young kid my sister and I used to pretend we were the Dukes of Hazard and we would jump through the windows to get into the bus. My dad didn't like us doing that, but we thought it was awesome. He was always working on our cars and was very good at fixing problems with them. One time I remember that the clutch broke as we were driving down the road. My dad stopped, grabbed some rope from the back of the bus and somehow tied up the clutch so he could make it work enough to get us back home. I will never forget seeing the road whiz by through the hole in the bottom of the floor where the clutch was and praying to God that the rope wouldn't burst into flames or break and we would get home safe. I still remember my dad with the biggest smile on his face, not bothered by the situation at all.
My dad loved scaring the crap out of us, too, especially in the bus. We used to live up in the mountains of Southern California and there was this really high and long hill we had to travel down to get into the main part of the city. Whenever we had to go anywhere at night, we would all load up into the bus and my dad would start to drive down the mountain. Once he got to the road, one of his favorite things to do was turn off the headlights, floor it down the road, and scream a blood curdling scream at the top of his lungs as we careened down the road. It was pitch black outside, the bus was loaded with all the kids and my parents, and we were flying down this super tall road at top speed. Of course we all screamed for our lives! Sheer panic are the only words I can think of to describe those times. We were little kids, too, and there were practically a million of us. Can you imagine, just for a second, what a Volkswagen bus full of small kids screaming for their very lives sounded like? The bus was almost gutted out on the inside, so there wasn't any padding to insulate the screams from all our little lungs. This joke by my father would ALWAYS end up with at least half of us crying, some laughing hysterically, and my mother being vehemently angry with my father. This is a memory I will never forget. Many years later the bus finally died. I know my dad misses it, but I was so happy to see it go. What prompts my dad to do stuff like that I may never know, but I can assure you that growing up was both fun and petrifying. :) I love you, dad!
Wednesday, June 15
A Tribute to My Father - Day Three
My father has helped instill in me a love of learning. For as long as I can remember my dad has been involved with computers. We always had one or two or more computers in our house growing up. My dad would always bring home these software demo CD's that he would get free in the mail at work and he would toss them in front of me and say, "Here. Learn this and tell me what you think." There were no manuals, no online help for tech support, no chats or forums with which to find information. Only the CD. I loved the challenge of trying to figure out how something worked and playing around with the software. I learned a bunch of different Microsoft software, a bunch of different Apple software, and some photo editing stuff that is archaic in nature compared to the photo editing software they have now. I find I have a knack for trying to figure something out on the computer, and I feel most comfortable with it. I attribute that all to my dad. He always tried to provide us with tools to use and learn from. He acquired these maps that came in a bright yellow plastic box for just about every state and I loved pulling them out and looking at them. It was so fun when my dad brought that box out because I knew we would look at maps and dream about where the solid red lines could take us. It was so fun to see how close the world was when viewed on a map. My love of maps comes from him. My love of learning comes from him. My love of finding out new things comes from him because he took the time to expand my talents and natural curiosity. Thanks, dad! I love you.
Tuesday, June 14
A Tribute to My Father - Day Two
I think you have heard me state before that I come from a family of eleven children. If you haven't, well, then I just said it. Keeping track of each child's birthday can be both confusing and frustrating. I was born in May, and ever since I can remember I have regarded my birthday as one of the best days of the year. My two favorite days are Christmas and my birthday and I love getting gifts for both! Growing up I loved it when my birthday was treated as a special occassion.
I was born on May 26th and growing up I always got to choose what kind of dinner and cake we would have for my birthday. My dad is a great cook who makes exceptionally delicious food and he was always making something out of these cookbooks that he had. They were the McCall's Cooking School Cookbooks that had all these laminated pages full of color photos of wonderful dishes with complete step-by-step instructions on the reverse side. Since I got to choose what kind of cake I wanted to have, I choose to pick one that my dad and I could make together and I chose this amazing chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate chips on the top to make. It was fun baking it with my dad. I think all I really did was stir a couple of things together, and add the chocolate chips at the end, but it was nice to spend time with him and watch him work his magic in the kitchen. He was focused, but engaged in conversations with me, and he didn't mind me asking questions about what he was doing. It was a good day.
Another time on my birthday my dad had to go to the store to pick up some items. I remember I was sitting on the living room floor doing some homework when my dad asked me a question that filled my little heart with joy. He said, "If I were to see something that you liked at the store, what would it be?" My mind began to race through the store aisles in my head, desperately trying to pick one thing that I would most want. I told him, "Watermelon Bubbalicious Gum!!" Oh, man did I love that stuff!! I didn't get it very often since we didn't have a lot of money and it was considered a luxury. But I could always blow the best bubbles with it, and the watermelon flavor was my favorite! I was so excited at the thought of getting my own pack of gum from my dad on my birthday! It was bliss! He kept telling me that he wasn't sure if he would get it, but I held out hope that he would. When he came back from the store there wasn't a pack of gum in the bag, but it was in his hand and he tossed it to me and said happy birthday. It was so great.
Making cake with my dad, and getting special treats from him for my birthday was special, but there was one birthday in particular that I have a fond memory of. It was early morning and I was getting ready to walk to school. My two older sisters had already left for school, but since I was in junior high I didn't leave until thirty minutes after they did. I was the only one awake and I was just eating my breakfast when the phone rang. I raced to answer it and heard my dad's voice on the other end. He had been at work for almost two hours already and wanted to talk to me. I didn't know what he wanted to talk about until he said, "I just remembered that today is your birthday, so I wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday before you left for school and tell you that I love you." My dad couldn't see it, but I was smiling as I thanked him for taking the time out of his day to call me and wish me a happy birthday. I told him I loved him too, and then a couple of minutes later the conversation ended and I hung up the phone. I went back and finished my breakfast, feeling so special that my dad thought about me and called to wish me a happy birthday. I didn't have the heart to tell him that my birthday was three days away. (Don't feel bad if you are reading this, dad!!) I was just so happy!
I love my dad for all the things he has done, and the man that he is. I love him for the sweet moments he has thought of me, and the times he has called to talk to me. I just love him.
I was born on May 26th and growing up I always got to choose what kind of dinner and cake we would have for my birthday. My dad is a great cook who makes exceptionally delicious food and he was always making something out of these cookbooks that he had. They were the McCall's Cooking School Cookbooks that had all these laminated pages full of color photos of wonderful dishes with complete step-by-step instructions on the reverse side. Since I got to choose what kind of cake I wanted to have, I choose to pick one that my dad and I could make together and I chose this amazing chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate chips on the top to make. It was fun baking it with my dad. I think all I really did was stir a couple of things together, and add the chocolate chips at the end, but it was nice to spend time with him and watch him work his magic in the kitchen. He was focused, but engaged in conversations with me, and he didn't mind me asking questions about what he was doing. It was a good day.
Another time on my birthday my dad had to go to the store to pick up some items. I remember I was sitting on the living room floor doing some homework when my dad asked me a question that filled my little heart with joy. He said, "If I were to see something that you liked at the store, what would it be?" My mind began to race through the store aisles in my head, desperately trying to pick one thing that I would most want. I told him, "Watermelon Bubbalicious Gum!!" Oh, man did I love that stuff!! I didn't get it very often since we didn't have a lot of money and it was considered a luxury. But I could always blow the best bubbles with it, and the watermelon flavor was my favorite! I was so excited at the thought of getting my own pack of gum from my dad on my birthday! It was bliss! He kept telling me that he wasn't sure if he would get it, but I held out hope that he would. When he came back from the store there wasn't a pack of gum in the bag, but it was in his hand and he tossed it to me and said happy birthday. It was so great.
Making cake with my dad, and getting special treats from him for my birthday was special, but there was one birthday in particular that I have a fond memory of. It was early morning and I was getting ready to walk to school. My two older sisters had already left for school, but since I was in junior high I didn't leave until thirty minutes after they did. I was the only one awake and I was just eating my breakfast when the phone rang. I raced to answer it and heard my dad's voice on the other end. He had been at work for almost two hours already and wanted to talk to me. I didn't know what he wanted to talk about until he said, "I just remembered that today is your birthday, so I wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday before you left for school and tell you that I love you." My dad couldn't see it, but I was smiling as I thanked him for taking the time out of his day to call me and wish me a happy birthday. I told him I loved him too, and then a couple of minutes later the conversation ended and I hung up the phone. I went back and finished my breakfast, feeling so special that my dad thought about me and called to wish me a happy birthday. I didn't have the heart to tell him that my birthday was three days away. (Don't feel bad if you are reading this, dad!!) I was just so happy!
I love my dad for all the things he has done, and the man that he is. I love him for the sweet moments he has thought of me, and the times he has called to talk to me. I just love him.
There Are Times
There are times when I am gently guided to things that help me see who I really am. There are times when I struggle and feel alone in my daily trials, but there are always times when I am sweetly reminded of who I am, where I came from, and that I am loved. I am reminded of sweet promises made to those who are faithful, to those who endure, and to those who keep moving forward. I have bad days and I get down on myself and my limited abilities at this time. Yet, there are times when the Lord knows exactly what I need to hear and blesses me with whispers of love that rejuvenate my soul. For those times, I am most grateful.
I really enjoy this song. It's from Disney's Meet the Robinson's (a fantastic movie, if I do say so) but I feel it is appropriate to how I am feeling now. Listen to the words.
I really enjoy this song. It's from Disney's Meet the Robinson's (a fantastic movie, if I do say so) but I feel it is appropriate to how I am feeling now. Listen to the words.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)