For three years in a row I had to give talks on Father's Day in church. I wish I had copies of these talks because in every one of them, I recorded how awesome I think my dad is. It would have been fun to go back and read what I had written a few years ago.
But now I am reconciled to just write again, why I love my dad and it comes fairly easy, because I pretty much think the world of him. He's one of the smartest, most talented, most interesting guys I know. He works hard at a job he dislikes, church callings that demand much of his time, on the house that is in constant repair, on cars that are always in need, and on his relationship with his wife. He has a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and has shown that in more by action than in words. He has always served in his callings and as a home teacher faithfully. He is a dutiful father. He always calls when I need to hear from him.
The older I get, the more I realize the influence Dad has had on me. I don't leave a room without turning off the lights. I get frustrated when I can't find the lid to the tupperware. I don't like using the dishwasher, when it is easier to just wash the dish and then put it away. I have little patience for people who lack common sense. And I seem to find myself wishing that people would just put their problems into perspective and quit making a bigger deal than what it needs to be. I still take really long showers, though, when I can get away with it. And I still leave my clothes on the floor in the bathroom. Sorry, Dad.
Some of my best memories with my dad from childhood consist of going with him to Troy Lumber or somebody's house to help do little side jobs that he would take on. I remember going and helping him fix a toilet. Or walking home with him from Troy Lumber.
Happy Father's Day. I'm so grateful to have grown up with such a wonderful man for a father, even if you do give strange/lame dating advice.