Remembering Dad

Today would have been David's dad's 91st birthday. We decided to spend some time remembering him tonight, so we chose foods he liked for dinner, talked about some of the things we loved and remember about him, and spent some quiet time in the front room just hanging out. Sophie and David snuggled, Kate, Josh and Ben played around, and I played the piano. It was a really gentle and sweet evening, and I just feel grateful to have had such a loving man in my life. Here are some of the things we remembered about him:

He loved me from the moment he met me and always treated me like a special daughter.

He loved our kids from even before they were born.

He loved teaching Josh things when they'd spend time together while I taught piano in Heber (he made him a pulley system in a box, set up an old turntable to see if things would fly off more quickly on the edge or in the middle...he loved to watch Josh's mind work.) He read to the kids, enjoyed listening to them perform, and laughed at their jokes.

He always complimented David's mom on every meal she cooked him.

He supported us in everything we ever tried. He would sneak us money when we were starving college students (a 20 in our glovebox or a 10 under our dinner plates at Sunday dinner.)

He got married 3 weeks before serving a mission to Germany. He was in Germany during Hitler's reign and was even there during Kristallnacht.

He became an accountant with a degree from BYU, but was unhappy in his job. Rather than live life unhappily, he went back to school and became a surgeon. He even taught classes at Johns Hopkins Medical School. He made housecalls, delivered most of Heber City for a number of years, and as his practice dwindled (he reduced his workload, but couldn't retire until going on his mission forced him to), was sometimes paid in trout by his patients with less income.

He loved history and got up before 5 am most mornings of his adult life to study. He was writing a book ("The Firsts of Heber") when he died.

He used to own motorcycles and racing boats.

If you met Dad, he'd ask you about your life and before you knew it, he'd know your ancestry back as far as you knew it. He never met a person he didn't like.

He had a huge vocabulary.

He kept EVERYTHING. I mean EVERYTHING. Mom found a whole box full of the inserts in nylons. He liked to cut them up for bookmarks. He had boxes and boxes of paperclips. He had notepads about polio vaccines from the 50s...a shelf of them.

He was a gentleman and a Christian and we miss him.