Moving On Without Dad

My dad died when I was 21. I was still growing up and needed a dad, even though I had moved out on my own. Father's Day wasn't too bad; I was in a student single's ward. The only families that attended the ward were the bishopric's families. But the Father's Day sale ads were hard. I didn't have a dad to buy for anymore. And I had wish I had taken advantage of the gift giving while my dad was still alive. Maybe the reason I was so forgetful was Father's Day was always after school got out for the summer.

When I was 22, I joined a LDS sorority at Salt Lake Institute of Religion, even though I wasn't a student. One of the activity was a daddy daughter date. Most of the young women were able to bring their fathers since they either lived at home or not far from home. I asked Uncle Victor, my mom's uncle to be my dad for the evening. My mom would always visit him and his wife when we came to Salt Lake, so it made the choice a lot easier.  I felt a lot less awkward having him there.
I don't remember any other activities that involved a dad, except for maybe celebrating Father's Day at church when I attended a regular single's ward. Usually during sacrament meeting on the third Sunday in June,the assigned topic for talks would be about fathers. It didn't bother me too much, unless one of the opening or closing hymns was "O My Father" which was sung at my dad's funeral.  The first time, I heard it I made a bee line for the ladies room as soon I heard the person who was praying said Amen. Even after I attended a regular ward, I would wait until the opening prayer was said before going into the chapel if I noticed the opening hymn was "O My Father".
After 15 or 20 years, I got tired of not being able to celebrate Father's Day.  So I sent my younger brother, Steven flowers. He is dad and that act took some pain away. Steven doesn't always get a Father's present and when he does, it usually isn't flowers.

Since my mom's death I have another father figure. Not so much in my life, even though Jay, my youngest brother does drive me to Costco and other places. Jay has been my oldest brother's caregiver. Every month, Jay drives to the Magic Valley every month to buy Mike groceries and other things that are needed. During the warmer months, he does yard work. We all help out financially, but Jay contributes the most time to Mike's care.
The ads for Fathers Day are getting less painful, probably because I can delete from my email immediately instead of stuffing the ads behind the rest of the newspaper. And heck, it's been awhile since my dad's been away. Life does go on.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is a hard holiday for me, but I have to admit it is getting better as the years go by. My Dad passed away in February 1980, so that month is usually difficult for me, especially President’s Day weekend. But at least, with Father’s Day it is only one day. Not much happens at church; compared to Mother’s Day, it is less of a fuss. No flowers, maybe the Primary will have the children make something for their dads and sing during Sacrament Meeting. But if the congregation sings “O My Father”, I might get a bit teary eyed. That hymn was sung at my dad’s funeral. I once remember heading straight to the women’s room when that hymn was the closing song. I thought I had dealt with the death of my dad, but on that day, I realized I hadn’t.
I never really gave my dad a father’s day present. I don’t remember doing anything in Primary (which was held during the week in the 60’s and 70’s). And I don’t remember Arts and Crafts during Sunday school. But there would usually be a Father’s day program during Sunday school opening exercises. (A general meeting before we split up in our individual age based classes.) That was probably the extent of remembering my dad on Father’s day. When I went to college, I do remember buying a box of chocolates and giving it to my dad, when I made a surprise visit home. But I think that was the extent of my gift giving.
When my dad passed away, I realized I no longer had the option of giving him something on Father’s day and that has made Father’s Day hard for me. But over the years, I have learned to cope. Once I sent flowers to my brother, who is a dad to two teen age boys. Last year or maybe it was the year before, I sent flowers to my cousin so he could put the flowers on my dad’s grave. My dad is buried in the San Luis Valley of Colorado, where he grew up.
Even though my dad is gone, I can honor him by remembering the values he passed on and making a good attempt to walk in his footsteps. And when I really stop and think I realize that is something I’ve been doing all along. Something we can all do as we honor our dads on Father’s Day.

My Dad

My dad has been gone for 31 years. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s been that long and I still miss him, especially on Father’s day and in February. He was a good man who lived simply. He was satisfied with what he had. Cheryl Crow sang once “It isn’t having what you want, but wanting what you have”. This was true of my dad. Dad loved horses and his family and that was all that matter to him. My dad’s face would light up when he talked about his horse, Pet. Pet was the only horse he owned. Uncle Lynn, my mom’s uncle and my dad’s best friend, once commented that he and his friends would trade their horses, but my dad was loyal to Pet. One of stories that my dad liked to tell was of Pet rounding up the cows. Apparently the gate of corral was left open and cows left. Pet noticed this and on his own rounded up the cows. When all the cows were safely in, he shut the gate and took off for an adventure of his own. When my dad married, he made a decision to give up riding horses. He was now a family man and family came first, but his love of horses was still there. When I was young, probably 5 or 7 years old, one of our neighbors asked Dad to tend their horse while they were gone somewhere. I think my dad was in 7th heaven during that time. We all got a chance to ride the horse around the yard or maybe down the road while it was in our corral. When it came my turn to ride, the horse opened its mouth. I saw those BIG teeth and I was frightened. I am pretty sure I got on the back of the horse crying my heart out. I am not sure if my dad guided the horse while I rode on its back. I doubt the horse even moved while I was on it. I’ve never been on a horse since. My dad lost his hearing in World War II while serving in Alaska. When we would talk to him, we would talk right into his right ear. He did wear a hearing aid, but most of the time, it was in the drawer. So my dad talked loud, except for when he wore his hearing aid, then his voice was quite soft and I would have to ask him to repeat what he said. One time during my senior year, I was driving home later in the evening from Twin Falls with my dad. I remember talking to him, knowing that he couldn’t hear me, but it was still comforting. I knew he cared about me and loved me. I was only 21 when my dad was hospitalized for heart failure. That weekend I had been to Logan to see my friend, Lydia. When I got home, there a note on my bed to call home. The next weekend was President’s Day, so my brother, John and I headed home. Dad was out of the hospital and he enjoyed the big Valentine cookie I gave him. We had to leave Sunday night since I had to be to work the next day. As we were leaving my car got stuck in the yard and my dad helped push the car out. It was the last kind deed he got to do for me. When I got back to Salt Lake after dropping John off in Provo, I called home and found out that my dad had passed away. He had a heart attack that night and died in route to the hospital in Burley. My father lived well, expected little and loves much. He still watches over me and my family. And I hope he takes Pet for a ride now and then.