There are many words that could describe the heartfelt love and devotion I have for my parents. I really do feel, and have always felt that I was blessed with the most incredible parents and family. I realize my life could have been very different had I been born into a different family. I didn't grow up in a family of worldly wealth, but we always have had an abundance of joy. Our love for each other and our savior has always been enough.
My parents moved their little family of 5 (at the time, ending up as 8) to the coldest, most barren and windiest place on earth......o.k. maybe not THE most of all those things, but it sure was close....(RockSprings, Wyoming should say it all)....to try to make a life for them. My dad got a job at Bridger Coal mining company as a mechanic and first settled what they had, at a place called Farson, Wyoming. Farson wyoming is a little clump of trees in the middle of nowhere, but it has a great tie to our family and our story, so we love the place and the life long friends we made there. :)
My mother was very pregnant with me at the time, and took care of my two older sisters also.
No running water, no power, no phone, a real start to a wonderful adventure we call our family history.When I was two, we moved to Rock Springs, which was a little more populated than Farson, but we lived 3 miles out of town, so we nearly had the wilderness to ourselves and a few other neighbors nearby.
In all the 30 years of my life, there has never been a time where both of my parents weren't working hard. My mom was at home while we grew up, taking care of and raising 5 girls and 1 boy, making sure we had 3 square meals a day, getting us off to school and church, and running errands, then later needing to take up jobs out of the home to help get us by when my dad literally had worked his hands and elbows to the bones and nerves, causing him to lose his job from not being able to physically work. I want you to know..that I have the same deep feelings of gratitude for both my parents, but I want to share something about my dad this time.
Despite the physical trials my Dad ended up dealing with, he has always
had the gift of his hands, which are equal to the words and meaning of, work, hard labor, and love.
This gift is his personally, but boy has it blessed more
than him, and more than his family a lone. This picture is something I will always treasure. My sister
asked me to take this a while ago. She has the same feelings I do about
it, as I am sure the rest of my family do too. My Dad recently turned 60. My sister made a special present for him with this picture, to tell him how she felt about it, and I was so very
touched that she would ask me to help, and now I want to share it too.
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| As a little girl, I can remember my Dad coming home from work, and his hands were always stained black from the grease he worked with through the day. His hands always had cuts on them, the skin was always thick and leathery, and it seemed that at least one of his fingernails was always purple from being smashed in someway. As you can see, his hands still have years of hard work showing on them. Each deep-stained line, in the dry and cracked skin means the world to me. We never went without, because my Dad always worked his best to make sure our family was provided for. He was out of a regular job for 2 years before we were able to move back to Utah, yet between him and my mom, and several weeks with him gone, only to be able to return every other weekend, trying to do what work he could, we made it! Now my dad is retired, and even though he still hasn't had it easy physically and health wise, retired only means, that he doesn't work for someone else. He is still always fixing a car, or tractor, landscaping, building something, working in his garden, crafting something amazing or helping and loving his neighbors. Without his hands, all these amazing works that have come about wouldn't have. Dad you are amazing to me, the best Father and friend a daughter could ever ask for, and you are very dear to me. I love you!!!! |
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