Happy 65th, Dad!

My dad turned 65 today! Quite the milestone birthday. He is in Utah now on the annual guys' hunt that includes Doug, my brother Drew and brother-in-law Mark. I'm jealous that they got to spend the day with him but happy to know that Dad has had a great day of hunting and fly-fishing and is just in his element.

They had a birthday celebration tonight with a special dinner and cake prepared by the hunting lodge's cook. Then they sat at the table and shared memories of Dad which included memories sent by my mom, sister and me. I really wish i could have been there to share in person and enjoy reactions, laughter and banter. Doug willingly gave me a play-by-play and it sounds like it was very well-received and enjoyed. Doug presented Dad with all of the memories in a nicely bound binder and it had pictures throughout. My sister and i gave Dad a really nice digital picture frame that i loaded with pictures old and new. Mostly of the grandkids, but some of us kids growing up and all that good stuff.

Below is my tribute to my dad. He is so special to me!

So many memories float through my mind when I think of a tribute to you. None of them earth-shattering or life-altering in and of themselves. But I think the sum of these memories tell the story of a great man!

I remember when we were living in Colorado and I was no more than eight. We got a huge snowstorm and schools were actually closed. You put me on your shoulders and carried me through the wind, snow and drifts to my friend’s house around the block. This has always been a fond memory for me, but now that I live in Colorado, I can truly appreciate how high those drifts must have been and how the wind must have been howling. (And that you had to do two round trips in order to get me there and back!).

I recall Mom’s first brain surgery and visiting her at Fitzsimmons Army Hospital. Obviously, you were concerned about Mom and showed great love and care toward her. But another thing I remember was a simple interaction in the hospital elevator. A young amputee was sharing the elevator with us and you carried on a simple, humorous banter with him. I think I remember it because as a little girl, it was shocking to me to see someone without a leg. But you showed me that he was a person who could probably benefit from a friendly conversation. This is one of many examples of how you taught me to treat people with respect and dignity.

Also, when we lived in Colorado, we would drive to Utah during the summer. One particular drive it was just Dad, me, Erin and Paige (maybe Mom was pregnant with Drew? I don’t know). Of course I remember the country music and the purposely obnoxious “Yi-i-i-i-i-ps” and “Yeehaws” from you. But on this drive, you got pulled over for speeding. The three of us girls sat in the back of that Caprice Classic station wagon saying all sorts of mean things about that cop for pulling you over. While I doubt you felt kindly towards that cop, you set us straight and made sure we knew you were in the wrong and that consequences happen.

You’ve always been supportive. I recall open conversations about the church when I wasn’t so sure about it. You were always willing to help me with the sports I was involved in. When I toyed with majoring in photography, you sent me to your friend, a professional photographer, so I could pick his brain. When I considered Army nursing, you got me connected with the chief of the Army Nurse Corps. You always told me (us, if I include Erin) that I could be anything. I could drive a tank, fly an airplane, be a doctor. The sky was the limit! I doubt nursing and teaching was what you had in mind for us, but I think it speaks to the values you instilled in us, that we chose people- and service-oriented professions. I always knew I was loved and that you were proud of me, and that’s always made a huge difference in my life!

I love you, Dad!