Happy Birthday Dad!

Since today is my Dad's birthday, and I tend to be hit-and-miss with greeting cards, (Uh. . . this year was a miss, if you catch my drift.) I thought I'd do a blog post instead.

My supply of old pictures here in Cali is limited, and trying to find an older picture of my dad without me (or any of my siblings) in it is like trying to find one of Steve without Sophie in it. Children sure take over your life - and your photo albums - don't they?

Dad, thanks for spending so much time with us as kids. Some of my best memories from growing up are vacations we went on, boating days, and camping trips. (Yes, camping. Thanks to my mom we always went in the camper.) I know there was a phase I went through where I was reluctant to go, but it always meant a lot to me that you put up a fuss when I opted out. I learned that it was important to spend time together as a family.

Thanks for teaching us to take school seriously. You always emphasized the importance of working hard and doing our best. I remember one particular report card I brought home that had all A's with one A -. You pointed at the A- and said, "what happened there?". A little harsh, maybe, but I know you were just trying to prove a point. I learned to set my standards high from that.

Speaking of work, I'm glad that you (and mom) taught us how to work. All those years of mowing the lawn because "Dad has allergies" made me wonder if you were just faking it because you didn't want to mow the lawn yourself. I was sort of a punk, I know. I'm not glad you had allergies, but I'm glad you made me work. . . . at least long enough for Devin to grow tall enough to see over the lawn mower handle. I made him do it as soon as he was strong enough to push it.

Thank you for taking pictures of us as kids, although I loathed it (as you can see above). I still don't like it, but I try to be patient because I know having photos and keeping records is important. Photos of backsides, mom's morning hair, and mouths full of food are ones we'll especially treasure. Seriously.

Thank you for teaching me how to handle money, pick out a good car, and drive a stick shift. And thank you for teaching me how to pick a man, too. If you (and mom) gave me a thumbs up, I knew I really picked a good one.

Thank you also for teaching us by example to take Church responsibilities seriously, to do what's right, and blessing our home with the Priesthood. Our home was always a place of refuge from life, and I hope to make my own home that way for my family.

I love you Dad! Happy Birthday!