One reoccurring theme I have seen as I travel around the world is the constant absence of fathers. Many of the churches I have attended are full of women and children, many of the communities and villages we visit are the same. Where are the men? Where did all of the fathers go? I recently read a blog from Compassion International talking about the shame of living in poverty. How not being able to provide for their family drives many men to abandon their wives and children.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank my dad for working so hard for our family and always being there when we need him. Our family has always been his top priority. I have been thinking a lot about my dad today, so as a Father’s Day celebration I am reminiscing on my favorite memories of him.
In the winter Dad would take me up to chair 6 on Big Mountain on Saturdays. I would bomb down the hill, but he would still always manage to beat me. Now I wait for him at the bottom of the hill on my snowboard, because we have to spend every minute on the slopes because we paid good money for our lift tickets. My brother and I usually have to form some kind of rebel alliance to get hot chocolate and fries at the lodge.
On Christmas morning when I was little my Dad used to hang cotton balls on out chimney and then slam a piece of red cloth in the door. He told me that Santa was in a hurry when he got to our house and left some pieces behind.
Our house was always decorated with Christmas lights in every nook and cranny. It was always a competition with the neighbors to see who could rack up the biggest electric bill for December…and every New Year’s Day was spent replacing every single burnt out bulb and carefully putting the lights into categorized boxes with labels while watching the Rose Bowl.
Spring is full of yard maintenance. The worst punishment we can get is being forced to mow the lawn, which must always be shorter than the neighbor’s lawn. This is also the season for sapsuckers, which we were commanded to shoot on sight with the pellet gun. My mom soon made a new rule – no shooting birds at the breakfast table.
My dad always encouraged hunting animals. One thing I most distinctly remember about road trips was hunting different animals. I remember catching lizards with fishing line and quails with a string, a cardboard box and a stick.
In the summers Dad is BBQing nearly everything if he is not in his garden talking to his tomato plants. He is trying to teach me how to fly fish but I definitely catch more trees than fish. The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday mainly because of my Dad. I believe the reason he even has children is so he can have his own little pyros to play with. We would drive to the nearest Indian reservation and buy everything illegal, then blow them up in the most creative and dangerous way possible. I do remember bottle rockets being shot at my head. We would always light the neighbor’s field on fire at least once a year.
Fall was always filled with sports. My Dad went to every soccer game I played growing up, even if it was clear across the state. He would also keep a record of all of my race times for track in his checkbook. He would time all my races on his watch. Fall was also the end of baseball season and the beginning of football season. My dad formed me into the Twins and Vikings fanatic I am today. Saturdays were for college football and Sundays were the NFL. (Sorry the Grizzly thing didn’t stick – Go Bobcats!)
Thank you dad for everything you do for us and all the energy and love you put into raising us. I love you!
ALSO: I only have $287 left until I am fully funded!!! God is good!
