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Thank you, Mr. Gardener

When I was a kid my dad would let me sit on the top of the couch and brush his hair. My dad has always had a great head of hair and I remember loving to brush my very manly fathers hair. I used to love to watch my dad build things. When you're three watching your dad build anything was neat. It happens to everyone- you grow up. You forget things like brushing your dads hair and watching him build things. One day you wake up and realize that your father has built many things over the years. He has built a family, he has built a home, he has built a career, he has built a company, he has built a marriage, and he has built children. My father's day card this year (which I haven't mailed off yet, awful, I know) starts off by saying, "Dad, I know we don't always share our feelings." This could not be a more perfect statement for my dad and I. I am a lot like my dad. I'm like my dad in stubbornness as well as in determination. If there is a will, there is a way with my dad and it's the same for me. There is no one who loves music like my dad does.

I swear we've sung at more church Christmas parties than anyone I've ever met. We didn't always do it happily but we did it because he loved it. That's what family is really about: doing something someone else loves simply because the other person may love it. We would sing around the bonfire in our backyard and listen to him play his guitar and I will never forget that. My dad was the one who put me into piano lessons and I know that I wouldn't have done it without him. My dad loves to fish. He built a drift boat when we lived in Utah when I was a kid and then he sacrificed the boat and sold it when we packed up and moved to Florida. I've never once heard him wish he hadn't sold his boat, even though I know he loved it. I grew up eating fish off the bone and even occasionally eating the crispy fried tail all because he would do it too. 

My dad works hard in anything he does. He followed his dreams, started a business, and not once gave up on his goals. He does everything well and doesn't stop until he knows it's his best work. My dad is getting old and I know those years of doing construction have worn and torn his body. He still keeps on working because that's the kind of man he is. I know my dad loves my mom. He may be silly and he may make fun of her cooking sometimes, but I know he loves her. 



My dad also loved my grandma. When she was sick, he took care of her. He was the one around to help and through the last couple of months of her life I really saw the love my dad has for my grandma in the way he took care of her. I know she is proud to have a son like him. 

My dad and I don't share the way we feel about each other- we just know we love each other. My dad has always been supportive of my dreams and didn't even think twice about letting me go to BYU. My dad is a gardener. He is happiest when he is outside: in his overalls, wearing his hat, and on his tractor. His love for the garden has brought us many years of great blessings. My dad loves birds. I'm fairly certain this love comes from his father. He can oftentimes be found with his binoculars staring into the sky looking for a purple martin. My dad is a pretty simple man. He is made of good intentions, a testimony that blesses lives, character, and strength. I love my dad. He has blessed my life and has supported my dreams. I will be forever grateful for my dad. I'm glad I have him for eternity. Thank you, Mr. Gardener for loving me enough to let me grow. 



Happy Father's Day. 








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