Day 3: My Parents

I have pondered about what to say all day. Do I tell the truth? What if it gets back to them? Do I sugar coat? What if readers know my family too well to know that this was the rated G version? What to say about my parents?

Like most families that grew up in Laie during my time. My parents met at Church Collage of Hawaii (now known as BYU-H)Mom came from here, Molokai and Kamehameha Schools to be exact. Dad came to Hawaii from Tonga with a short stop in Samoa waiting for his VISA to go through.

I wish I could tell you how my parents met, and how my dad proposed, and how romantic everything was. . but I think that is a story too long for this blog and one that only they could share. So I'm going to share a story about my father, that I don't think I've ever shared before. If you want to know how awesome my mother is, just read yesterdays blog.

When I was about 10 years old, I, like many curious children, started rambling through my fathers bottom drawer. (I don't know about your family, but each of my parents had a drawer that was their personal stuff, they never told us we couldn't touch, we just knew it was off limits.) He always had magical treasures in there, Always had at least one 3 lb can of corned beef - I didn't realize until I was older just how "rich" he was to have corned beef straight from New Zealand. And a few cans of smaller corned beef. They would change often, and I never knew why or how, cause we NEVER got to eat it. Only corned beef I ever ate until I met my husband was Libbys! He always had his Tauvala?(sp?)for special occasions, and then a bunch of important papers, a brief case (my favorite thing) In side he collected silver dollers, 50 cent pieces and some rare old dollar bills. But on this particular day I found his Journal! I was in shock, My dad kept a journal. What would a man write? So I looked around, found no one and started to read.

He was pouring out his feelings, worries and hopes for our family and especially for our garden. He wrote how he hoped the bugs would stop eating the lettuce. How he hoped the tomatoes would continue to grow. He expressed how grateful he was for good weather and how blessed he felt to work with his hands. he went on to talk about each of the veggies and then about each of us (his children)and how he wanted us to love the land too.

Up to this point in my life, I thought my dad was the man who got up in the morning and went to work, came home for lunch and went back to work, woke up on Sunday and went to church, came back for dinner and went to church again. But here he was sharing his hopes and dreams, in writing. All in his "secret" drawer! I found out more as I read. but the most amazing thing was his testimony. I don't think I ever heard him share it. But it was in the journal too. And it was powerful. I got to know my father like never before and was grateful. He wasn't just another man, he was a priesthood holder. He Loved the Savior, he wanted to follow the teachings of Jesus and he wanted us - his family to do all we could to return to Heavenly Father.

Now that he is getting older, it can sometimes be hard to understand why he is slowing down. As I have grown up, I've tried to understand why he makes or made certain decisions. But I never wonder who he is. I know - My Daddy is a Child of God. Sent here to love me like my father in Heaven would if he were here. Love you Dad.