From my wise dad...

The following is an email from my dad to me and my siblings. We had been emailing about the different challenges and choices we are making. My SIL has been holding the fort while my brother has been out of town for 2 weeks & she's had moments of wanting to pull her hair out. All of us are trying to make good choices and parent wisely each day. It's hard work! Reading this note from my dad absolutely made my day and I knew it had to be in our family blog book for generations to come to read and know that the sacrifice is all worth it in the end....

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...Looking back on everything I’ve done in the last 67 years, there are some memories I treasure more than the rest.

One of the most heroic things I ever did was stay up all night rocking a sick baby. At the time it was extremely hard, but looking back, I give myself an “A.” That’s the kind of thing I give myself credit for now.

Dad & baby Sherry

Other things were small, tedious and inconvenient, like walking the halls of church with uncontrollable kids, or diapers or cleaning messy rooms. I got tired of it, weary of doing the same thing over and over, frustrated that kids didn’t learn or mind, and I wasn’t home 24 hours a day, so it never surprised me that Chris needed a break when I got home from work. Now, all of that is an Everest that I chose to climb, and though it took a long time, the view now is spectacular.

We spent a lot of years chasing some of the accoutrements of success in an effort to ‘fit in,’ to look and act like the people we admired and wanted to be like. The toys were fun. Much of it was very enjoyable, but I don’t miss any of it. What I remember fondly now are the things we did together as a family, the laughter and sometimes tears. I remember Sherry and Jim reading to my blind Home Teaching widow. I remember you girls going with Chris to clean Sis Bates' house. Easters, Thanksgivings, Christmas’s and birthdays, rowdy Family Home Evening and scripture reading, endless night drives while you all slept, so hard at the time, are all sweet in memory. The smell of my first Mercedes, so intoxicating at the time, seems silly now.

Thanksgiving at the San Gabriel house 1985 (dad's lovin' the help!)

Easter Abt. 1979

Watching you all now that part of my life is finished, making your own homes where children are safe and taught values and civility, how to be themselves while choosing the right, you are my heroes today. All of us have had the frustration Amanda just shared, dealing with willful children, but you all do it so well, and you keep doing it day after day. That’s the stuff of legend.

Love? I haven’t figured out how to tell you how I love you, and how rich I am for being able to. Each of you young mothers have a huge chunk of my heart. When I hug you, I wonder if there is some way to radiate that to you so you’ll know how wonderful you are. You are building the most important thing you can in this life, righteous posterity. You are amazing. Each of you men, real men who stand up and take responsibility for your families, who put aside selfish things to do what has to be done, what pride I feel when I watch you. What giants you are, real men, not some plastic imitation invented by the media. Gushiness aside, that’s how I feel, or that’s as good as I can express it.

Love, Dad

Happy to pass on the love I learned from a wise father.

Photo by Macy Robison Photography