Thanks Dad

When I was a boy, I appreciated my father. Always there. Always willing. Always happy to take part. Never impatient. Never demeaning, condescending, or arrogant. 

As a family, dad took us to Snelgroves for ice cream--one of my choicest memories when I was a child. I went to Fernwoods across the street from Sherman elementary as a boy, during one of our Dad's night out.

Perhaps this sounds trite and possibly silly, but for me as a boy, it was just the beginning of my great memories with my dad.

Grandpa understood when I needed a listening ear. Driving in the car between Castle Valley and Moab, we definately had some of the best most memorable talks when I needed it most.

As a boy, I admired my brothers. Gregg played football. Randy was in scouting. Secretly I wanted to be just like them. I was just a kid, and back then for a time Grandpa was scoutmaster. In those days, scouts went on overnighters nearly every month. I would constantly ask my dad if I could go, and he would kindly tell me my turn would come (since I was only eleven years old at the time). But he listened to my pleadings, and I think he longed to give me what I wanted. So he made me a deal. "You want to go, I know. I'll tell you what. You help us earn the money for the super summer activity and you can join us for our two-week trip to the Grand Canyon. We'll see Bryce Canyon, Zions, the Narrows, Hoover Dam, and spend two-weeks on the road, including three days in the Grand Canyon itself before flying back to the North Rim and returning home." Wow. Could this really be? Well, it happened just as promised. We edged the grass around headstones at a local cemetery in SLC and saved our own money until we had accumulated $38 per boy back then as I remember. The plan was to enter the canyon from the North Rim and hike to the South Rim, a 26-mile journey, right in the middle of the summer. We carried dehydrated food, built no fires in the canyon, and slept beneath space-age blankets, which were like thin, blanket-size sheets of tin foil that essentially kept the dew off us.

I'd never hiked that far in my life. Grandpa had to lead the troop, of course, but I always felt welcomed and valued, even when my boyhood emotions got the best of me. Grandpa was patient and loving, despite the fact I was not always lovable. It probably became the most memorable activity of my life to that point, and I got to do it with my dad. How great is that?

Father's Day is coming up, which always causes me to think how lucky I have been to enjoy times like these with my dad.

Best times of my life as a boy. Hope for a future day which will surely come as a man. I love you Dad.

He introduced me to Christ by word and deed. He taught me we all need the Savior's help.

Injured, imperfect, flawed--but nonetheless rescued.