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| In Papa's Hands you are loved, cherished, protected and respected. |
My earliest memory as a young child is having breakfast with my dad. He would come home in the morning after working the night shift at the mill. I would wait for him in my crib. He would pick me up, put me in my highchair and we would have breakfast together. Growing up, my father made kites out of newspaper, turned out all the lights in the house and played flashlight tag, gathered sticks around the camp fire for a evening of pick-up-sticks, played softball with us in the backyard and he organized plastic dart gun competitions. He taught us how to shoot a gun, bait a hook and set up a tent. He took us camping, firewood gathering or huckleberry picking almost every weekend in the summer. I learned to drive by pulling logs onto the dirt road with the orange pickup so my dad could cut it up into firewood! We would go hunting with him in the fall. We would hike behind him for hours searching for the giant elk herd that has resided in "No Tell Them Creek" for years. I will always remember being surrounded by a giant, panicked elk herd. The smell, the intense noise - it would leave my heart beating out of my chest. We still laugh about the shots he missed and joke about the times I saw the animal when he never did. He is the reason I care about wildlife. Before my third birthday I could tell a Mule Deer from a Whitetail Deer. Very rarely it was about the hunt. It was about the animal, the hike, the time together. In the winter he would pull us on sleds behind the snowmobile either in the field near our house or at our sledding hill up Miller Creek for hours. His only rule: when our eyelashes were iced together it was time for a break. He would build a fire and bring a Thermos full of hot chocolate to warm us up. He was always playing with us. He was the dad who could be talked into bringing home another pet! He would put up a good fight, but in the end that little homeless kitten was fast asleep on my chest. Granny once told me not to believe him when he said no more pets - he was always bringing home strays as a kid! His only rule: If it doesn't have fur do not bring it into the house.
As we got older he scrapped his nickles together to buy us whatever prom dress we wanted and bought us our own car to drive. He changed my oil, picked up tampons for me because I was too embarrassed to do it myself and when I was having a life crisis he hugged me and assured me my boobs would grow, someday! So often my dad went without so I could go on traveling softball trips every weekend, most weekends my dad was also there silently cheering me on. When I left to live in Hawaii, just nineteen, barley out of high school, chasing my dream to work with marine mammals, my dad with a smile on his face dedicated to me the Garth Brooks song, "The River". He has always encouraged us to dream. Dreams may not come true and dreams may change, but don't be afraid to dream.
It was never about the money he spent, fancy vacations or big shopping trips - it was about the time he spent and the memories and traditions we created. Quality time where we felt safe, loved and respected.
As an adult, as a mother, he is the first person I call when I need advice, a pep talk or a good laugh. He keeps me grounded, he keeps me honest! He reminds me what is important and makes me really think about things.
The lesson that will stick with me no matter what, "Love is the most important thing." I was very small, dad was playing and signing "Silent Night" on his guitar . We were in the basement sitting in front of the fire place. I asked my dad, "Why are all songs about love?" He replied, "Because love is the most important thing."
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| Addi, Papa and Landon. September 2011 |
Addi calls her grandfather, "My Papa." "Me and My Papa went to WalMert." "My Papa probably misses me." "My Papa is so sweet." Her Papa knows that sending Addi a box of her favorite things will make he so happy she will squeal. Simple things - a toy she left behind at his house, stickers, a bag of peanut butter cups. Her Papa plays with her. Her Papa bakes cookies with her. Her Papa takes her to watch the forest fire. Her Papa has lunch with her in his camper. Her Papa unconditionally loves her and she loves her Papa.
Papa saw Landon for the first time on Saturday the day after he was born. Landon was still grotesquely swollen and his life was hanging on by a thread. Papa took one look at him and said, "He will be out of here in four weeks." And in six weeks he was! Papa never doubted that Landon would be fine. Even through my very scary pregnancy Landon's Papa had unfailing faith that he would be okay. He just knew Landon would be strong and perfect and never once did he doubt that. When I was feeling sad and discouraged about Landon's situation, Papa would remind me to remain optimistic.
Landon will be proud to be named after his Papa. He will know that his name means faith, compassion, honesty, perseverance, laughter, and unconditional love.
