He would have been 65 today....
"My Dad would have been 59 this month. I think about dad a lot but it's always really random the things that will strike a memory. There's the obvious things like when I watched the new Indiana Jones or Batman I think, "this is a movie my dad would have enjoyed". Especially when Pirates of the Caribbean came out, I knew that he would have loved that trilogy. I'll think about him when I drink a Pina Colada at La Cai and know that if he were sitting across the table he'd a been disgusted. I think about him every time I try to correct my posture. I remember him putting his hands on my shoulders and literally rolling them back. It was never something that bothered me, on the contrary, I appreciated him doing it and I know he just did it because he could see Grandma's genes in the way my shoulders rolled forward and he didn't want me to end up with a hump. When I'm at the Grocery store and I see pesto sauce I always remember that the pesto recipe was the only one of dad's experiments with cooking that we ever threw out. To this day I am racking my brain trying to remember where we ended up eating out after the pesto was sufficiently disposed of. When I'm driving at night, and the kids are sleeping and Russ is trying to stay awake but ends up falling asleep, I think about driving with dad up to Pine Valley and how much he enjoyed the silence. Anytime I ever wash my hands with the orange Dial liquid soap I think of Dad's office and I start smelling that Cherry air freshener that was supposedly suppose to cover up the animal smell. Then I remember gagging at the smell of the kennels after missing one night cleaning them out. When Scott asks me what I'm doin, and I say, "oh just puttering" I remember that no matter what dad was working on he he always called it puttering. Some of the things I do, I do them just so I can remember like how I taught Scotty that when he squeezes my hand three times it means, "I love you". I remember going on walks with Dad hand in hand and he would do that and if I didn't squeeze back he'd say, "gotcha". Whenever I'm in Disneyland or even if I just hear rain forest sounds I think of the tiki hut and dad chillin' on the log bench waiting to go in and take a break from the heat. I remember the little dance that dad would do when he got excited about something. There's a picture of him in the middle of doing that dance, the one where he's wearing his new fly fishing gear and vest all ready and rearing to go try it out. When I leave the lamp on by the lazy boy at night I remember walking in the house after playing night games or after staying out late with friends, usually the only light on was the hanging lamp above dad's chair where he was reading the latest John Grisham, or Tom Clancy novel, and in the later years the Classics, and most of the time it was the Book of Mormon. When I visit Mom and It's late and the only light on is the fire blowing on a cold night I remember Dad laying on the couch listening to the last of the Mohican's sound track or Camoruh's hill CD. And then I start wishing that I would have turned on the Armageddon sound track that had the song "leavin on a jet plane" and started massaging his feet more often than I did. He would stop whatever it was that he was reading, lay the book over his chest and recline back with a huge sigh of relief whenever we would start rubbing his feet. Sometimes when I bring out the first aid kit for Scott or Russ I remember changing dad's bandages when he had the hole in his belly. I would pretend that I was a nurse and I enjoyed doing that for him or to him I should say. There are times that memories aren't so pleasant like the ones that watching a show that takes place in hospital with people in agony can sometimes spark. Dad really did suffer a lot in his life and that brings me back to the fact that even though he was a man that knew true pain he didn't let it become who he was. I always think of dad during a lesson in church about not worrying and trusting in the Lord. I remember one day when I was young I asked dad, "is there anything that I need to worry about?" He snapped at me and it really took me by suprise when he almost shouted, "don't ever look for things to worry about, there is never a need to worry when you're doing what you should do". Having the genes that I do, worry is one of those things that has been difficult to overcome but Dad is a great example of overcoming it.
There is so much more that I wish I could say because there is so much that I have forgotten. I'm grateful for old home movies so that I can remember the things like the sound of his voice, they way he sat in a chair, or played with his kids, the way he'd start up the snowmobile, or walk to the car. So much that we take for granted but I'm also grateful that I need not worry cause if I do the things that I know I should then I will get to see him again and it will be as if he'd never left. I love you dad and Happy Birthday! "
