Happy Fathers Day

I've been thinking about Dad more this week and the reasons why I am grateful for him along with things he has taught me.  Oh I love "dear old dad" as he says.

At my BYU graduation with Mom and Dad, April 2011.

I teach the Sunday school class at church for the 10 and 11 year olds.  Today I shared Dad's caving story with them.  I bet Dad has other caving stories but there's only I ever remember him telling us and it is The Caving Story.  He and Mom were newly married and Mom was expecting her first baby.  It was a holiday (I think labor day) and he went caving with a couple friends.  He was only supposed to be gone a few hours but ended up missing all day.  

So the story (at least as well as I remember him telling it) goes like this: he repelled into a large central room of caves.  There were lots of tunnels and places to go that were connected to the main room, like fingers connected to the palm of a hand.  So they went down one of the "fingers."  After they'd explored for a while they turned around and started heading back.  Some spots were tight where they had to crawl on their hands and knees; they'd go up and down and around bends in the caves.  Some spots were wet with little pools of water along the way.  As they tried to make it back it took them way longer getting back than it did getting in and they ended up lost.  So they said a prayer.  Then they talked about which way they thought they needed to go to get back and they went for it.  But instead of getting back to the big room they found themselves in a passage getting smaller, narrower, and tighter with still no indication of daylight anywhere to be seen.  They eventually ended up on their bellies--stuck--with no way to go forward and no way to go backwards.  And then they started digging.  The one in front scooped a handful of dirt out of his path and pushed it behind him.  Dad got the same handful and pushed it behind himself and so did the third guy.  And they kept digging, one handful of dirt at a time.  There was a tiny pinhole of light they could see far ahead and they kept digging towards it.  And eventually they made it.  It was a sobering experience and I'm skipping a lot of details but there are three lessons I learned from my Dad and The Caving Story.  One: When you're lost or alone or scared, pray.  Heavenly Father will hear you and help you.  Two: Sometimes in life we feel stuck and all we can do is to scoop one handful of dirt at a time out of our way.  Only a handful.  But we don't stop digging.  We keep going.  And Three: we keep going in the direction of light.  They saw light and they did everything they could to work their way towards the surface and towards the light.  When we keep doing all we can to work towards the Light of the World, or the Savior, we are heading in the right direction.

Thanks for The caving story, Dad.  Here's another story, this one about me and him from about twenty five years ago.  It was stake conference.  He had accepted a calling to be a counselor in the stake presidency (a stake is a group of about ten congregations, give or take) and he was sitting on the stand waiting for the meeting to start.  My brothers and sisters and I were sitting together with another adult (my mom was on the stand, too).  My dad was a little nervous.  There was a lot going on, prelude music and the sound of people talking and visiting together before the meeting started.  But out of the thousand or so people there my dad heard my little three-year-old voice say "I want my dad!"  He's shared this story a few times before and likened it to our Heavenly Father.  Surely there's a lot Heavenly Father is involved with and doing.  There's a lot he could be listening to and people to see.  But when we call for him, he hears us in our own way call out for him "I want my dad!"  Heavenly Father hears you.  I know he does.

One more story: the time dad got mad.  This one might not be his favorite but it's one of mine.  Sometimes my brothers and sisters and I did or said things that made one or both of my parents unhappy.  My dad doesn't really get mad that much.  But I remember one day he got mad and yelled at one of my brothers.  Then a little while later he came upstairs and apologized.  That was it.  He asked us to forgive him for losing his temper.  I was maybe six or seven years old.  And I can't remember it happening again.  There have been plenty of times I've said or done things that I regret afterwards.  When I acknowledge my faults and desire to change myself so that I don't do or say that thing anymore, and then ask for forgiveness I feel so much better.  It's called repenting.  It's choosing to change and be better.  That's what my dad did.  And it's what I want to always do when I mess things up.  

Okay, a few more short memories: 

When he and Mom were renovating our house about eight years ago we stayed at a condo on the beach for a couple of months.  It was a smallish two-bedroom condo so Kimmy and I shared a room.  One day Dad came into our room and started instigating a pillow fight.  I was nineteen years old.  :)  Who starts a pillow fight with a couple of teenage girls?  Dad.  And it was really funny.

Then there was the trip he and Kimmy and I did to drive the car out from Florida to Provo after Gramma Meyers gave me her car.  Dad isn't exactly.... musically talented.  But after about four days of driving he started making up songs.  Priceless.  You don't get the full effect without the wierd melody but the lyrics give you a taste of how funny he is when he tries to be musical: ah hmm.  "Where did all the Kimmy's go?  Eaten by a chi-ip-monk!"  It was a great attempt at making up songs, Dad.  And it still makes me smile.

He loves to find time just to hang out with us.  This is one of my favorite things about Dad.  When I was thinking about masters programs he planned a trip with me to the national speech language pathologist convention in Philadelphia and then we flew up to Boston to check out some of the schools there.  Here is another: when he and Mom came out last summer for Lucy's baby blessing he went to pick up food from Kneaders for dinner and he said come along with me for the ride.  So I did.   Just because.  And when Michael gets one of his crazy ideas to go to Timbuktu (or the Gilapagos Islands) Dad goes along.  Or when Joe wants to go to a baseball game they go.  Or when Kimmy wanted to learn how to sail he rented a boat and taught her.  He just finds time and makes time to hang out with all of us--together and individually.  And I love hanging out with him.  

And here are a few last endearing tidbits about dad: 

1.  He made us sing the primary song "I'm so glad when daddy comes home" every Monday for family night for my eighteen years at home.  Even when it was just Kimmy and I as teenagers--we all had to sing his song.

2.  He is one of the funnest people to go clothes shopping with.  Looking back I think it was really smart because he got a say in what clothes we bought and wore.  But even still he is just really fun to go shopping with.  On holidays and busy sales he actually enjoys the crowds and people watching.  And he loves for Kimmy and Alicia and I to pick out clothes for him.

3.  If I've heard "I need a helper" once I've heard it come from his mouth probably a thousand times.  He is incapable of cleaning out a junk drawer without assistants.

4.  He makes the best grilled tilapia in the world.

5.  I'm his favorite.  :)  (But so is Joe, and Mike, and Alicia, and Kim)

6.  Whenever I'm home he usually asks me at least once to choose what he should wear that day.  I'm not exactly sure why but it's a fun tradition.

7.  He's got about a million ties and loves getting more and acts surprised and pleased every time we get him another one.

8.  I can't remember when the last time was that I heard him say something unkind about somebody.

9.  He's really good to Mom.

10. He and Mom made home like heaven and it still is.  When I was a teenager I wanted to find someone who would be as good a dad as he is and I most definitely found Dad's match in Matt.  Happy Father's day!