A tribute to my dad for father's day

Recently I read a note that was a sort of list of rules from a protective father to the boys his daughter was going to go out with. You come across things like this all the time in movies and songs--the father sits and cleans his guns or sharpens his knives while telling the boy not to break his daughter's heart or try anything indecent and to be sure to get her home early. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with being protective of one's children, because parents should care about their children and do their best to keep them out of harm. But there was always something about this scenario that bothered me. I'm grateful that I never had a need to worry about how my dad would treat a boy if I brought him to meet my family. I don't remember feeling a bit nervous when Ryan came to meet my family at Thanksgiving when we were dating, because I knew my family would try very hard to make him feel comfortable. I've often thought that my dad had a much better method than scaring the boys into being nice to me: First, he taught me that I shouldn't put myself into precarious situations that would hurt me, so I never considered going out with the kind of boy who would make my dad want to get the knives out. Second, he himself was an incredible example of the kind of boy I did want to go out with and ultimately marry. I knew that I wanted the loving and eternal kind of relationship that my parents have, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to find that with just anybody. I wanted to be around young men who were thoughtful and intelligent because that's how my dad is--the shallow, conceited boys never really interested me, no matter how cute they were, because they were boring and didn't value the things that were important to me. Thank you, Dad, for respecting and accepting the person I decided to marry, and for teaching me what I needed to do to have a celestial marriage.

I think the priesthood made a big difference in the atmosphere of our home when I was growing up. That was such a blessing. I can think of a few different times when life seemed to be getting really hard, and the thought came into my head that I needed a blessing from my dad. Those were special experiences, and somehow he knew exactly what needed to be said in the blessing, even if I hadn't told him what was worrying me.

My dad is strong and works so hard. For a while growing up I slept in the room beside the coal furnace, and in the winter I would watch him in the morning while he shoveled coal into it before waking me up. I probably didn't need him to wake me up, but I think I liked listening to him shoveling the coal and looking forward to him opening my door and saying good morning. He took care of the farm pretty much by himself, and he also did a majority of the yard work. It was probably pretty hard work. I remember we had two enormous pine trees in our yard, and once he got underneath them at the bottom and chopped away the lowest branches--the higher branches were still so long that they reached the ground, so both of the trees were like a house, and we had lots of fun playing under them. I thought he was brilliant because he had figured out how to do that. We all liked to go ride with him in the tractors or come with him when he irrigated--which, now that I think about it, probably took up the majority of his farming time. I guess he spent the summers walking or riding along beside the ditches setting up mini-dams and doing his thing with the siphon tubes (I could never figure out how he got the water to flow up the tube and then run down into the fields). I remember the way he smelled when he would come home for lunch--like tractors and plants and soil. I kind of miss that.

When I was in middle school and high school Dad was able to come to several of our field trips, and he even played his trombone with our pep band for a few years. I really enjoyed having him there. I've never been able to understand why kids are ashamed to be seen in public with their parents. I'm proud of mine.

Once he and I were at the Department of Motor Vehicles waiting in line so that I could get a new driver's license (we were required to get a new one at age 18). The line was very long because Driver's Ed was starting the next day and lots of people had procrastinated getting the necessary paperwork done. I found myself looking around at the teenage kids standing in line with their fathers. I could tell there was a difference between their dads and my dad. For one thing, many of the dads there were unshaven, dressed shabbily, and hiding uncombed hair under hats. My dad always has a clean, shaved face and wears clean, respectful clothing, if that makes sense. I appreciated that he puts some care into his appearance. But there was also something more about my dad that those other dads didn't have, and I think it was a different perspective about his role as my father. I think he tries to remember that his calling as a husband and father extends through all eternity. He knows that he is a son of God and that he is part of God's work. Because of that wonderful testimony, there is dignity, faith, and purpose in the way he looks and acts. You can see that difference in his face. I also know that we receive power and increased understanding by receiving the ordinances of the temple, and because my parents were married in the temple they invited that special something to be part of our family.

My three youngest siblings were born after I was twelve, so I remember their births pretty well. I like the memories I have of watching my dad holding them when they were tiny. He loved them. He wanted to be a father. So many people today don't want the burden of a family, but he does want a family. As our baby's birth comes closer, I am feeling excited to see what my husband looks like holding our son. I'm looking forward to watching them play together and seeing Ryan teach our baby about the gospel and many other things. I'm grateful that I am married to somebody who wants to have a family like my dad does.

I found some photos of me with my dad, and I thought they were so cute I wanted to share them:

The day he confirmed me a member of the church (I'm sad that the scan didn't turn out as nice as the actual photo):


I love to accompany my dad on the piano while he sings. He has a beautiful voice and loves to sing for people, and I've always enjoyed making beautiful music with my dad. At our reception on the day Ryan and I got married, Dad sang "The Men in my Little Girl's Life" and "Turn Around." That's a memory I will always treasure. Thanks to Aunt Maria for taking pictures while he sang.