a blog about my father.

Fathers are so important. They are essential. Looking and hearing about facts and statistics about children not being raised by their fathers breaks my heart. I can honestly say my life would not be the same without my dad. I'm grateful for him in my life. I'm grateful for the influence he has been in my life.
My father is a father to seven children. He is only biological to six. My oldest sister was adopted. But that makes no difference. Because he does not share half of his DNA with my sister doesn't make him less her father. He raised her. He loved her. He taught her. That's what made him a father.
Throughout my life, my dad was my hero. I remember thinking he was the coolest man in the world. I grew up thinking I had the coolest dad in the world. I still believe these things.
I remember when my mom took a late night job during Christmas time for extra money. I don't know how old I was. I was pretty dang young, because I remember falling asleep with my dad on the floor while we watched TV, and while I used a pillow case as a sleeping bag. I remember when he and I would stay up making cookies for the family. Oatmeal was our specialty. We'd add raisins and sunflower seeds. I didn't like the sunflower seeds, but I pretended to because I knew he did. I remember when I was seven years old and he was diagnosed with cancer. I remember visiting him, seeing him in the hospital bed. He didn't look good. But I knew he wouldn't leave us. I remember when he baptized me, and I remember telling him to make sure I wouldn't drown while he baptized me. I remember when I got a little older, and a worse attitude. i remember his talks with me. I remember him counseling me. I remember him telling me I had potential, that I had great things to do in this life, and how Satan was working hard on me to ruin all that. I remember when he got cancer again. I remember noticing he never complained. I remember seeing him all my life sitting in the front of church as a loving and caring Bishop. I remember seeing my dad at the table reading his scriptures when I'd wake up in the middle of the night or early in the morning. I remember talking about the San Francisco Giants, yelling at baseball games with him, yelling at the TV with him when they won the World Series. I remember a note he gave me where he told me he was proud of me. I remember what he wrote: "Thanks for being my girl." I remember these things because they involve him.
My dad has had eternal effect on my life. Talking and reading about fathers have reminded me of this.
I love my father. I love that he's been involved in my life. Without him, I can't imagine where and who I would be.
Men, remember to be fathers.