My Dad

My dad grew up in Sanpete County, Utah in a little town called Moroni. He had six brothers and sisters, falling at number five. In high school he played football. He went on a mission to Central America, then attended BYU. Because of this we attended a lot of BYU football games while I was growing up. We were pretty hardcore.

My dad worked really hard to support us. Many times he had two jobs and traveled a lot. It's only been as I've gotten older that I realize the sacrifice this was and how much I appreciate it. I've learned to work hard from dad and to keep going no matter what.

When I was a kid I remember my dad having a mustache for a little while. I didn't like it because when I'd kiss him goodnight it would scratch my face. I also remember my dad being an imposing figure when I was little. I knew he loved me, but we didn't really say it. After my parents divorced it was just my dad and me living together. I learned a lot about my dad during that time and I'm so glad we had it.

No matter what I've done my dad has supported me. He never fails to tell me how proud of me he is and that he loves me. These aren't words we've always said to each other, but somewhere in my late teens it became something we do.

My dad has always been great at fulfilling his church callings. Many of the young men in our ward growing up can remember being taken to BYU football games or working the books during the summer with my dad. He cares for other people.  He's been a good son and brother. And, if he has given you a nickname it means he likes you. That's one of my favorite things about him.

My dad is a pretty cool person, and I can't imagine not having him. Hope he sticks around for many, many more years.