Happy Father's Day

My dad is a good man.

Through the years, he and I haven't always agreed.

He hurt my feelings a time or two.

But I always knew he loved me. And how do I know this?

He taught me to love reading and learning.

He taught and expected me to work hard and to be self-sufficient.

He served me and my family in countless ways. He went to work every work day, often performing dull and thankless tasks, so that I could have food to eat, a bed to sleep in, piano lessons and voice lessons, and fun vacations from time to time. And when we went on these vacations, he was usually the one to drive, even as the rest of us entertained ourselves or slept.

Sure, I can remember times where he lost his temper, or got annoyed at things that seemed so minor and petty to me; but as a parent myself now, I have much more sympathy and understanding than I did back then, and I pass no judgment on my dad-- or my mom-- for any of their perceived failings. And anyway, they did a pretty darn good job, even in spite of themselves. I hope I can do at least as well with my own children as they did with me and my siblings.

My father was and IS an exceptional man.

He sat with me and patiently walked me through countless complex math problems, explaining them to me the best he could, even though I often failed to understand and more than a handful of times ended up screaming and running to my room with tears of frustration in my eyes.

He took the time to gather our family together every evening to read our scriptures and pray together. We gave him a hard time sometimes, joking around or trying to wrap up conversations which were sometimes difficult to put down. I imagine there must have been times where he and my mom both dreaded that looming half-hour every evening, knowing there was the possibility of chaos and near-warfare at times. They must have been so exhausted and tempted to just send us all to bed right away (or at least go to bed themselves) without all the fuss of "family time."

He served in various church callings, cheerfully and willingly. And he always supported my mother in her church duties as well.

He gave me a Father's Blessing every year before I started school; he blessed me when I was sick, or any other time I asked him. He kept himself worthy to perform these blessings at a moment's notice.

Sure, he wasn't perfect. But he never gave up trying.

I love my dad. He is worth loving. And his love is worth desiring, and I know he shares it willingly with me. I am so grateful for that, and for all that he does.

Thank you, Daddy. I love you.

~Sylvia