If there's one thing you should know about my dad, it's that he loved life and life’s Creator.
My dad was a hands-on father and grandfather. I remember riding tricycles and bikes together, and playing horse and 3 Fly's up in the street. Even when I was a toddler, he'd lay on the ground, put his legs under me and let me "fly" around like Superman. When the grandkids came along, he'd take them to Chuck E. Cheese, to Boomers, or just to the park so that he could spend time with them. He had fun with us, but he stood up for us too.
If you've ever driven with my dad, you know how much he loved to go fast. He worked on his own cars (1960’s Jaguars) until they became all computerized. Even then he would souped them up with a free flow exhaust system, NOS, or an enhanced chip to increase the performance of his vehicles. Getting on the 101 freeway by means of the Stowell rd (s-shaped) on-ramp, driving the 166 or the 154 with him was always an adventure, to say the least. Whether it was airplanes, cars, rollercoasters or the teacups at disneyland, he loved feeling the thrill of speed.
He loved loud music. In our family/game room, he had big speakers and he would crank up the volume and sit or lay right in front of them to feel the intensity of instruments like the drums and electric guitar in the song, “private investigations” by Dire Straights and the piano to “man on mulberry street” by Billy Joel, and to the powerful crescendos in the Phantom of the Opera.
And he loved being outdoors, especially camping. He’d often take the shortcuts on hiking “trails”, even though one we took gave both him and Jen poison oak. He'd climb trees with me, he had me climb on the roof to watch fireworks with him, and we’d have the most awesome games of Hide and Seek on Tom Sawyer's island at Disneyland.
My dad loved making people feel special and seeing them smile. When I graduated highschool, he surprised me with a car I had wanted, just to hear my scream of excitement. As a teenager he'd let me and my friends pile into his van so that we could go to Magic Mountain -- something he kept doing with his "kids" in the congregation long after I was grown. Whenever he'd talk to his family, he'd say things like "you're my favorite second-born," or "you're my favorite brown-haired granddaughter," to make sure we knew were special in our own way. And he'd send daily text messages with jokes and puns to make us smile.
He was smart with his hands and great with numbers. One of my first memories was him working with me to build a dog house. Over the years, he and I worked together on many projects, and he always had a creative solution -- whether I was trying to lay out a pattern on my hardword floor or build a giant jenga set. His memory of scriptures, phone numbers, license plates always impressed me. And of course: there was his love of Sudoku.
You wouldn't know it to look at him, but my Dad was a big softie. He loved cheesy rom-coms like “She’s All That, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Bring It On”. He'd go back and rewatch just the most touching scenes -- he’d often even tear up during them. And he couldn't stand seeing anyone in pain. In fact, he'd get mad at them and tell them to "take something, you jerk!"
Even though I have many good memories, I will be the first to admit that he wasn't a perfect man. In many cases, he was full of contradictions.
He believed that women should be capable and independent, but he always told them they looked better with long hair. He wasn't always the most patient teacher, but he always had patience to talk to someone about the Bible, or to talk to someone who was going through a difficult time. And he'd lay down his life for someone in a second, but he'd also tell them to tough it out or suck it up.
Obviously, as a parent, I know firsthand that we pass on so much to ourselves to our kids -- for better or for worse. The more I think about my dad, the more I learn about myself.
I have his love of creation, his strong curiosity, and his desire to explore. Which typically lends itself to being easily distracted. Often, when on vacations walking around “exploring” his new surroundings and thus leaving the group behind….we’d say, “where’s Joe?”
I'm competitive like my dad, and I'm indecisive like him too. He showed me what it looks like to be genuinely interested in people, and gave me my determination to overcome obstacles. He taught me to work hard, to stand up for your kids, and to spend quality time with the people you love.
I can't wait to continue to add to the memories we've made together. The next I see him, I'll be challenging him to hike Half Dome with me.
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