Dedicated Dads

My computer screen is blurry because my eyes are filled with tears.  When I wake-up (in three hours) it will be Father's Day.  I try not to write when I'm emotional or tired, so bear with me. :)

My Heavenly Father

Of all the people who have ever lived, and who will ever live on this earth, there are only two people who can call me "daughter".  My mom and my dad.  I love being their daughter.  I love them, because they first loved me.  Before my parents loved me, my Creator and Everlasting Father loved me. Of all the titles and names I bear, the one I am the most proud of is daughter of God. 

I believe in a Heavenly Father who is loving and giving.  A Father who blesses me and shows me evidence of His love on a daily basis.  I believe He is my greatest cheerleader and during times I lose my way He inspires me to take courage, have faith and walk toward Him.

My Earthly Father

I was born unto a goodly father who loves the Lord and loves me unconditionally.  I realize this was a blessing from the first breath I took. My dad has taught me many things.  He taught me to walk and talk (with a Southern accent).  He taught me how to ride a bike. He patiently sat at the kitchen table and taught me math.  He taught me how to drive.   He taught me to work hard and be honest.  He taught me about centrifugal force.  He taught me the scriptures.  He taught me swear words like "dadgumit" and "dadblameit".  He taught me to not gauge the butter.  He taught me how to balance a check book.  He taught me how to love.

If there is a word that describes my dad, it's charity.  My dad is long suffering and kind.  He does not envy and he is not proud.  He does not behave unseemly, he seeketh not his own.  He is not easily provoked (although the kid working at the Draper Cinemark concession stand might disagree).  My dad thinketh no evil.  He rejoices in truth.  He bears all things, he believes, he is hopeful and he endures.

My father is without guile.  He has taught me to love and see the good in everyone.  I don't think there is a person my dad has met who he doesn't like.  And if there is, he would never tell anyone. While my dad has taught me a lot, I think the greatest lesson he taught me was how to be a parent. 

The Father of My Children

My boys are with their dad, which is where they should be, but as I caught a glimpse of their empty beds I felt myself shrink for a moment.  I never thought we would be the "every other weekend" family.  However, I think we're doing a pretty good job. 

I can't write a Father's Day post without recognizing the father of my kids.  My boys adore their dad.  He is their hero!  They love spending time with him and he is really good about making and keeping promises with them.  He is a fun dad!  He works hard to support and provide for them.  He rarely takes time off from work because he takes his financial obligations seriously.  I am eternally grateful for his support and for his dedication to having good working relationship with me.

Father of Hope
dedicated to DSM

To his kids he is their father. 
Their trusted confidant. 
Their rock and one sure thing.
He sacrifices, works, worries, prays, ponders, listens, serves, encourages and loves. 
He thinks no one notices.
I notice. 

His influence reaches far beyond the walls of his own home. 
Teacher, friend, partner, coach, cheerleader,
Happy, but never content.
He is a doer and a fixer. 
He motivates and inspires. 
He encourages and blesses. 
He is steadfast and immovable.

He is a father.        

LOL

 

             I quickly made my way to the security checkpoint at the Hartsfield International Airport.  I was excited to be going home.  It had already been a long day at work.  I was the Store Manager of a busy clothing store, and the demands of running someone else’s dream were exhausting.  I was looking forward to settling into my first-class seat and sleeping for the duration of the four-hour flight from Atlanta to Salt Lake.   

As I hurried through the terminal, I caught my reflection in a store window and gave myself a little nod of approval.  I looked cute.  I was wearing a black and white herringbone printed skirt, a black long-sleeved turtle neck, black fishnet stockings and black knee-high boots.  Protecting me from the coolness of the crisp Atlanta winter air, was my black pea coat.  

I hoisted my heavy bag onto the conveyer belt at security.  It was full of binders, pens, large envelopes, and all the contents you would typically find in a woman’s purse.  I took my coat off, placed it on the conveyer belt and walked through the scanner.  I passed!  The scanner indicated I was not a threat to commercial airline travel, so I made my way to the end of the conveyer belt and waited for my things. 

When my bag hit the end of the belt, it tipped over and all of the contents spilled out. I gracefully squatted down and stuffed everything back in.  While I was still perched on the ground I reached up and grabbed my coat off the belt.  I slid my right arm in the armhole, then the left, and then I pulled the coat up onto my shoulders.

To get to my gate I had to go down the escalators and take a short ride on the airport train.  Then I had to go back up the enormously long escalators, and walk to the last gate at the end of the terminal.  When I finally sat down, at the gate, I realized something wasn’t right.  I looked down and thought, “What is wrong with my skirt?”   

I felt the blood drain from my face when, in horror, I realized the back of my skirt was tucked up into my coat!  I had just spent the last 20 minutes mooning the Atlanta Airport!

What does one do in this situation?  I laughed.  I laughed all the way to Salt Lake.  I laughed about it every time I told the story.  I still laugh about it today.  I believe the best way to navigate this messy life is to laugh your way through it.

I will never forget the day my grandma first taught me the lesson of laughter.  I was 10-years-old when she pulled me into her den and imparted the life-changing wisdom only grandmas can.  She explained that no one wants to be around someone who is sad and grumpy.  People like to be around people who make them laugh.  People like to be around people who don’t take life, or themselves, too seriously.  She went on to explain that when something bad happens in your life, you have two choices, you can either laugh about it, or cry about it.  My grandma and Marjorie Pay Hinckley must have been cut from the same cloth.  Sister Hinckley once said, “You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.”  AMEN!  I prefer to laugh as well.

I love to laugh!  I’m the girl who will randomly laugh out loud at something that happened years ago.  I’m the girl who loves to be teased.  My best friends know that the best way to help me through a problem is to make a joke out of it. 

I can find the humor in almost every situation, including life’s biggest disasters (and no I’m not talking about the time my top came undone and I walked around Macy’s essentially topless).  I have been able to find reasons to laugh through fertility and health issues.  I found the humor in my financial woes, up to and including filing bankruptcy.  Remember when Michael Scott came out of the break room and shouted, “I DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!”  That was funny.  And I may or may not have shouted the same thing in the parking lot of the courthouse the morning we filed.  I have found my laugh amidst the tears when death has taken my loved ones.  I have even found excuses to laugh through my divorce.  Richard G. Scott said, “A sense of humor is an escape valve for the pressures of life.” Isn't that the truth!?!

Laughter is healing to my soul.  I crave it.  Every time I find a reason to laugh, especially in a difficult situation, I feel like I’ve won.  Bill Cosby once said, “Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers.  And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.”