I remember when he was 37, and I thought he was old then. I was actually proud of his mature age for he was two years older than my grade school teacher (and you know how when you're a kid, even one year older than someone means you are so much cooler and wiser).
Today my dad has reached the big 6-0!
But, now that I am no longer in the 3rd grade, 60 isn't quite as old as I once thought it was.
My dad is one-of-a-kind. Here's some things about him:
He grew up as the 4th child (also the 4th boy - my 4th boy, Robert Grant, is named after him) in a family of 13 kids. They didn't have much money and moved around every couple of years.
My grandpa liked to make sure his kids had character-developing activities, so they had a dairy cow. The boys in my dad's family each took a year to milk it. When it came to my dad's turn, he milked it for about 4 years straight. Though he was told he had to continue milking the cow because of his own mistakes, my dad is convinced it has more to do with the fact that it took that many years for the next boy in line to mature enough to start milking.
My dad has always loved balls. When he was a young boy (not having much money), he played basketball with a homemade cloth ball and a laundry box. He went on to play on the high school basketball team - even though he looked like a 12 year-old at the time. After he and my mom were married, he practiced with the near-by junior college team, helping him to improve his shot. I always thought he was so good that he could have been in the NBA, and maybe I was right.
Basketball was a passion, and my brothers followed in suite. He went to every game, every tournament that my brothers were a part of. Every family get-together ended with a pick-up game being played in the gym. My dad wasn't as mobile and in shape as he was when he was younger, but he had an amazing shot that warrented the need for him to be constantly guarded.
Having a family of highly-competitive people, most games ended with some sort of fight, disagreement, and cheep fouls. My dad was always good at bringing people back to reality. He has a way of aknowlaging your hurt and frustrations, allowing you to feel heard, then reasoning with you to help you see what your folly was and why the other person responded to you in such a way.
My dad's father became ill for some time during my dad's youth. Because of the shortage of money and help along with the bountiful work and children, my dad went to live with his maternal grandparents for a year. It breaks my heart when I realize that he was only a first grader, living away from his mother, but even though there were times that he sorely missed his mother, my dad had some great experiences during that time and grew closer to his grandparents and aunt.
My dad met my mom at a high school basketball game. He was playing in the game and she was a cheerleader for the opposing team. They were introduced to each other through my aunt Lucy, who had met my mom through some Seminary leadership committee. My mom bet my dad a quarter that her team would win. Not sure which team won, but it dioesn't matter.
My dad served an LDS mission in Minnesota. There he made friends and had experiences that shaped his life. Plus, he had to experience real winters, I think that is why he prefers not to visit me in the wintertime. During his mission he had several times that his life was in danger, but that the Lord saved him. While driving on an icy day, he felt the Spirit prompt him to drive on a certain spot on the road, the decision to follow that prompting ended up saving his life. Right now I do not remember exactly how it saved his life, but I remember him telling me that story several times and it's impact.
My dad was companions with a kid from my mom's (very small) hometown. This companion suggested to my dad that he write my mom, for she was pretty neat. They wrote each other a couple of times, neither of them thinking too much about the relationship.
Some time after his mission, my dad was going to go up to Randolph, UT to see a friend of his - I'm assuming his old mission companion- and since he was going to be in the area, my dad called up my mom and asked her on a date. She agreed to go out with him and you would assume that the rest is history.
When my dad was coming to pick up my mom, my mom was not home. She had been quite liked by boys, and on the day of the date, my mom found herself in an awkward situation. Unannounced, a guy she had liked had stopped by to visit her. As the time for my dad to come was getting closer, my mom wasn't sure of how to handle to situation. So, she ended up going somewhere with the guy and standing my dad up.
My dad showed up to my mom's parent's home. He sat awkwardly on my grandparent's couch waiting for my mom. My mom had several younger sibling still at home, and my dad was sitting in the mix of them. My dad has said that when he was there, in this embarrasing situation, he was so grateful for my mom's mom for she made him feel very welcomed and comfortable.
When my mom had finally returned home, my dad had long gone home. My uncle informed my mom that she had missed her future husband. This, of course was all in teasing, for he went on to stress the fact that my dad didn't wear socks and drove a beater car.
My dad has never been one to hold grudges, so he agreed go out with my mom again. I believe that my mom invited my dad to my mom's sister's house to play games. My mom tells the story of how good my dad looked in yellow bell-bottoms.
Though my dad may have been stylish back then, he has lost most of it. I remember when I was growing up, my dad wore shoes that velcroed. I am not talking some cool, hip velcro, I'm talking nursing home velcro shoes. He will usually wear business or business casual, but once he finds something he likes, he gets a large quantity of it. When I was in high school, he had a large assortment of soft-toned Hawaiian button-up shirts. Now he is usually sporting some sort of blue-striped shirt. In fact, Mikey once asked him why he keeps wearing the same shirt day after day. He may or may not be wearing the same exact shirt. I have gone to Wal-mart with him to have him get 6 shirts, all of which that look very similar to the one he is wearing.
My dad has a knack of working with teenagers – I guess that's what he did for a living, so he had a lot of opportunities to perfect it by the time I was a teenager. He had some sayings that I still remember and have even used on my own children.
To help us remember that we should be grateful for our parents, he would say:
The moment you're giving more than you're getting, I suggest you move out
None of us moved out too soon.
One that I say at least once a
week is:Obey first, question later
Which is genius, and can be found in the scriptures with the whole - There is no knowledge until after the trial of your faith -
Speaking of scriptures, my dad knows the Book of Daniel and Revelations like no other. I cannot tell you how many Family Home Evenings we had centered around the Doomsday of the Second Coming.
My dad likes poetry. He has several poems that he will recite from memory, one of which is “The Road Less Travelled”. When he recites it, you start thinking he is a philosopher of some sort.
My dad has a different way of thinking. He understands people, understands and predicts human nature. He has a way of knowing how to motivate people, how to make people feel appreciated. He is sensitive to how others may be feeling and will try to help people out of their troubles. I will say that is one major flaw of my dad is sometimes he is too compassionate and tries to save people from the natural consequences of their choices.
Though I think he only completed a semester of college, my dad is brilliant when it comes to business. He started with nothing, no financial help from anyone and created a business for himself. It is pretty impressive what he has been able to accomplish and so many of his ideas were brilliant and original.
My dad is tone deaf and lacks most rythem. He tells the story of sitting with a friend during church during his youth. His friend, though my dad did not realize it, was not a great singer. During the hymn, my dad was singing along, trying to match his voice to what he was hearing. Soon my grandpa, who was very no-nonesense, especially in religious aspects, came back and smacked my dad on the back of the head. My dad was confused for he thought he was doing a good job singing along. It wasn't until later when he realized that his dad thought he was singing in a mocking manner.
His kids (and grandkids) are my dad's weaknesses. When I was 16, my dad told me, in all seriousness, that I should wear big bows in my hair. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't 5 anymore. My boys adore my dad, they get so excited for him to come. My dad does a good job of giving them lots of attention and having traditions with them. Whenever he comes for a visit, his tradition is to take the boys to Chuckee Cheese (I never claimed that my dad was classy). The boys love this, and we get to sit at the table, poking at the disgusting food, having a great time talking while the boys run around playing the games. I'm just impressed that my boys understand that you have to put a coin into the machines to play the games. They use to just run around playing the demo-mode while my sisters snuck the coins to play Guitar Hero.
My dad loves gadgets. He has SkyMall on his speed dial. Often times he will order these gadgets, open the boxes, look at them for 5 minutes, put them back into the box with the intent of using them for whatever project he was thinking, then never touch nor see the gadgets again. If the gadget is easy to use and already charged, he will use it, right away. One example is when he had ordered a comb that trimmed your hair as you used it to comb your hair. He ran (okay, I'm not sure I have ever seen my dad run....speed is not his thing, but when you're as tall as him, I can understand) to the bathroom and tried it out. Big mistake.
My dad does not like to be thought of as a fool. He doesn't care if he's thought of as cool or not, but to be a fool --- no. After using the comb that cuts hair, and using it totally incorrectly, my dad came strolling into the living room, acting as though nothing had happened. After glancing over at him, my mom could not believe what she saw. My dad had run the comb just down the middle of his head, giving him the appearance of a reverse mohawk, and he just sat there, all nonchalant. My mom cried for days afterwards...tears because she was still laughing so hard.
When I first told my dad that we were going to homeschool, he was not thrilled. He was more concerned about me with the stresses taking care of my four little boys while trying to homeschool as well. His concerns had good intentions, but after voicing his concerns, he respected me with my decision, respecting that I try to make good decisions. Now, he is very supportive of the learning my kids have been getting at home with our schooling.
My dad is very generous – again almost to a fault. Whenever he sees someone in need or suffering, he does what he can to meet their needs.
He is a wonderful father and I'm glad to call him my dad.
Happy Birthday Dad-oo
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