*HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD

If my father were still alive, today would be his 107th birthday. It seems fitting that the post today be about my father.  He had lived a long life when he died at age 90 on November 28, 1994.  Even though he was nine years older than my mother, he outlived her by eleven years.

September 1937, Age 33

My father was a do your duty, all business, hardly any play, type of man.  When his father died in his fifties, it fell to my father to pick up the slack in helping to support his mother and younger sisters still at home. He was in his early twenties during the Great Depression which made it even more important for him to take care of his mother and sisters. From my perspective, doing your duty and being responsible pretty much defined how he lived his life.  He took little time to relax and have fun - either for himself or with his family.  I think that in his mind being a good husband and father meant providing well for the family. We lived in comfortable homes, in good neighborhoods, had plenty to eat, and clothes to wear.  But what we didn't have was a father who played with us or showed us much affection with hugs and kisses.

Growing up in my family was similar to growing up in a business.  Dad was Chairman of the Board, CEO and CFO.  My mother was Operations Manager who carried out Dad's wishes and made sure that everything on the home front was running according to the determined business plan.  My brothers, sisters and I knew what our jobs were as well.  We were to stay out of trouble, not make messes in the house, do our chores around the house, and get good grades.  The boys were expected to go on missions, go to college and then get married in the temple.  The girls were only expected to get married in the temple.  If we wanted to go to college that was fine, but post high school education wasn't high on the list of things expected of us.  My sister, Linda, and I both went to BYU.  I'm pretty sure that the primary reason we went there was so we could find a good Mormon boy to marry. 

As CFO, he handled all the family finances.  My mother had a checkbook for household purchases. Dad would enter an amount each month in the check register that was Mother's budget for the month. At the end of the month, he balanced the checkbook. I know that I never got an allowance.  As a teenager, if I needed money I either had to go to Mother for it, who usually had to go to Dad.  I wasn't usually denied, but then I didn't have a great need for pocket money.

Dad was a stickler for being places on time.  I don't remember ever being late for anything.  We were usually the first ones to show up for Church. The habit of being on time, or even early, was so ingrained in me that I have a difficult time if it looks like I might be late somewhere.  It drives my husband nuts because he doesn't really care and hates to be early only to wait around for things to get started.  As a teenager, I was mortified when my father, who was conducting a church meeting, said over the pulpit to people coming in after the opening prayer: "For those of you who are just coming in, you didn't start early enough to do your hurrying.".  I wanted to crawl under the pew.

Because Dad was never involved in sports of any kind, he couldn't see the point getting his children involved in sports. The only acceptable extra-curricular activity was anything involving music, with Choir being the most acceptable. Most of the kids sang with school choruses, A-Capella, and Madrigals.  It was a good thing that we were all blessed with fairly decent voices or we wouldn't have even had that activity.  Even though, I was a member of two audition only vocal groups in junior high and high school, my father never came to any of my performances. He was too busy doing his duty elsewhere. 


Family vacations were few and far between.  Once in awhile, we would drive to Rehobath Beach on the Chesapeake Bay for a day's outing.  We'd get up at the crack of dawn, take a packed lunch, spend the day at the beach and turn around and come home.  I know that Dad was with us at the beach because he drove the car.  But I can't remember him getting in the water and playing with us kids.

The vacation of choice for Dad was going to the Hill Cumorah pageant.  Again, we would get up very early, drive all day to upstate New York usually arriving just in time for the pageant. By necessity, we had to stay over night somewhere.  The next morning, we'd make the return trip home only stopping for gas and rest breaks.  There was usually no stopping to see anything of interest along the way.  I think that we all knew the route from home to Palmyra and back by heart because it was rarely deviated.  I remember once we stopped at the Corning Glass Works for a tour.  On another trip, we convinced Dad to go home by way of the Hudson River valley and go through New York City.  He obliged.  But my memory of being in New York City is pretty much driving through the city and looking up at the buildings.  I don't think we even got out of the car.  I seem to remember him saying "Well, you've seen New York now.".

There was also a brief overnight trip to Bedford, Pennsylvania. We stayed in a motel and had plans to do some fun things in the area.  However, it rained the entire time so outdoor activities got nixed.  Instead, we went to a movie.  My father's comment about deviating from the usual family trip to Palmyra was "That was a long way to go for a movie.".

Overall, my father was a good man who was doing the best that he could for his family in the only way he knew how. My father was kind, and rarely raised his voice around the house.  He provided for his family, was faithful in his church callings and was charitable towards others. He was my father and I loved him.
Happy Birthday!