Sunday, June 19, 2011

Thank you, Dad



~For choosing mom.
~For loving her.
~For playing "wrestle-tickle" and "pile-on" on the living room floor.
~For holding out your pointer finger for me to hold on to when I'd walk beside you. I was your "pal".
~For fixing grits and eggs on Saturday mornings or on our birthdays.
~For the times you let me lay on your chest or outspread arm, smelling your unmistakable Brute aftershave.
~For laying by the fireplace and "making plans".
~For ice cold pop.
~For telling us Oop-pop-a-da stories of your Louisiana childhood.
~For teaching us those beloved hymns in Portuguese, even when we had no idea what we were saying.
~For throwing the football to me and teaching me the plays to run through.
~For taking me fishing. How to hook a worm or tie a fly.
~For taking me with you on your Prudential appointments.
~For bringing home prizes.
~For playing Dave Brubeck and Sergio Mendez while painting in your office.
~For washing our hair in the tub and patiently listening to our howls.
~For the way you cut an orange so precisely.
~For taking me to BYU football games.
~For holding family prayer and scripture study before we left for school.
~For making me pick up rocks and pull weeds.
~For laying your hands on top of my head, pleading and praying over me in faith, whether it was when I was sick, was starting a new school year, or needed spiritual guidance and comfort.
~For taking Mom out on weekly dates.
~For making Portugal happen for our family. Believing that it would.
~For making the time to come to all my games.
~For handing out the cash when asked.
~For taking me to the office and letting me do something during those boring summers.
~For taking us to see interesting things and interesting places. You wanted that for us.
~For all the times you picked me up or took me there (remember those Marginal drives?) Late or far you never, ever complained
~For taking us out to eat.
~For your testimony and faith in the Lord and His gospel.
~For the time it was just me and you on the trip to Madeira and the Azores.
~For all the gospel doctrine talks we had.
~For putting up with my hot anger and tears and insecurities; you really did love me more than the missionaries.
~For showing me what sacrifice means.
~For your example of never missing a day of journal writing for over 50 years.
~For when I started BYU and you took me to Smith's to buy me some make-up (you wanted me to see how pretty I could be) and a silk plant to make my first living- away- from-home room nicer.
~For sitting in the car and talking to me when I called you and needed immediate help and council knowing I was doing the right thing in marrying Keith. I think we sang "I Know That My Redeemer Lives".
~For helping me,encouraging me, and insisting on hanging some pictures on the wall of our first apartment to make it nice. (Sticker wall hangers, instead of nails. You provided the solution.)
~For being there at all my births.
~For tending my children so willingly and happily.
~For your love of books, and study, and underlining important things with a red pencil. (Laying across the bed is the way this is best achieved.)
~For telling them those beloved Oop-pop-a-da stories
~For "Calling Down the Magic" for adoring and believing children and providing that magical treasure box tradition for them.
~For sharing your talents and beautifying our homes with your paintings.
~For making your home a place we all want to be on Sunday nights. The way "Papa" make us feel is one of the reasons why.
~For your love of people. All sorts.
~For knowing that it's okay to cry and show emotion.
~For your love of the Lord.
~For being real.
~For being you.

I'll love you forever,

Your daughter Emily

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