My Dad

I was talking to my mom yesterday and she was telling me about a package that was delivered to Dad; for Father's Day. And it dawned on me, that for the first time, I'd let it slip that it was even Father's Day at all. No gift was sent, and I felt terrible. I'm sorry, Dad, I really am.

It dawned on me, that I am so consumed with all that is going on with my life, that me, Miss Organization, can't even remember what today is, let alone what is going on tomorrow. I have a calendar that is so full, it is color coded. You'd probably cry if you looked at it; I know sometimes I want to. There really isn't anything that can be taken off, it just is what it is. It is mostly filled up with doctor and counseling appointments. I've told my family that if it is not in writing on my calendar, it does not exist. Sometimes I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, "I'm a stay-at-home mom, and I have no life."

I don't really feel that way most of the time. I love my family. I love my children. I love my niece and nephew. But these days I find my brain disappearing and being replaced with slush. Last night, I was on the phone with my husband and told him that I was going to pick up our son. In the same conversation, I reminded my husband that my son needed his meds. My daughter looked at me like I was crazy and my husband started laughing at me…because I had just said I was going to pick him up; which meant he could not be home with my husband. And so now; I've forgotten a special day. And I'm all about special days. I love them; ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that I, Hope Vivas, am all about a reason to celebrate anything.

And I forgot my dad. And I feel terrible. He doesn't deserve that.

And then, I started thinking about Dad. And I couldn't stop. I thought, maybe, just maybe, he'd like to know what I really think about him. So, the rest of this blog is for my dad, because I love him so much. Dad, you probably have no idea how much I really adore you. I do.

One of my best memories is you taking us camping; every where, all the time. I loved going camping! I loved the soft ball games, and the campfires, and the roasted marshmallows. I loved it when you hid behind a tree and would growl like a bear. We knew it was you, but it still scared us anyway. And we loved that we were scared by your growling!

I love that you never ever made us feel like we wanted for anything. I can't remember a time of really wanting anything or being told no. We wanted to live in the country, we lived in the county. We wanted horses, we got them. Dirt bikes; we got them. There was never a want, because you worked so hard to provide our every dream to us. There were never any mansions, but that was ok, because you gave so much, we didn't need to dream of something bigger or better.

We lived a pretty simple life, but it was a wonderful life. Do you know what my favorite memory of you is? It is when we were playing in the snow on the round saucers. You and I went roaring down a hill lickety split! We went down so fast that we crashed into the bank. Up into the air we went flying, with you landing in the street and me on top of you. And we laughed so hard. I think of that often. That is how I always want to remember you; laughing, because you were happy to be spending time with me.

I remember hiking through the snow to chop down our own Christmas tree.

I remember standing around the stove in the early mornings in Colorado trying to stay warm.

I remember Mustard. How many parents would take care of a baby deer? I realize mom did the taking care part, but you could have said no way. You didn't. Art is like that. Poor man never knows what he may come home to. (I inherited that from mom, I guess.)

I remember the frogs in Oregon and the slugs. And how you used to pour salt. UGH.

And the lizards and the ice. My kids love it when you do that.

I remember the Mussels on a cold Oregon beach.

We have so many childhood memories, because you insisted on doing things together as a family. Sometimes that meant the family was attacked by a hive of bees, but hey, at least we were together! And the slide rocks; now a national park…but I can fondly remember the time when it was au natural…and the fun we had.

Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Beaches…so many memories.

I remember catching the sucker fish on that cliff…I think it was in Oregon. You had double hooked my line. I was so excited to catch a fish and I could barely pull it in. You helped, and when we finally got it within sight, it was two huge sucker fish! What a day!

It was you that taught me the value of a simple photograph.

I remember that it was you who picked me up and carried me out to the car the night I lost my daughter.

It was you who carried me to the truck and rushed me to the hospital a few years later when I popped my stitches while camping.

It was you who begged me not to have anymore children, but to please adopt if we still wanted more.

I know you've paced and fretted and worried over me over the years. I know you love me.

And you've passed on great things to my children. Jonathan is so excited, because he thinks he's old enough to finally be able for Grandpa to teach him how to drive the Bobcat. He knows that's your tradition and he wants his turn.

You've given my children Yellowstone, fishing, camping, roasted marshmallows and growling bears behind a tree. You've given them the lizards and snakes and a love of nature.

You've given us all so much. I fretted because I didn't purchase a gift for you. And then I realized, maybe, just maybe, the best gift I could give you is to really let you know how much you mean to me, to my family, to our family. Because I don't think I've told you enough how much I really love you and look up to you. I'm not sure you realize just how great of a dad or a grandpa you are.

You are the best. You are number one in my book. And you have left and are still leaving a legacy of your self that will always be remembered.