Daddy’s Girl

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Me at age two

As a child I heard Mom say, a time or two, I had Dad wrapped around my little finger. I was the only child out of their five that he witnessed the birth because way back then fathers were not allowed in the delivery rooms at the hospital. I suspect I didn’t want him left out, so my delivery was at home.

It all started after my grandparents came to take my sister, Rosanne, home with them for an overnight stay. They did this often, taking turns with each grandchild. After they left, Mom started having strong contractions so Dad called the doctor and told him they were on their way to the hospital. Because of the pain, Mom struggled to walk to the back door towards the garage. Dad rushed ahead to drive the car out of the unattached garage closer to the back door. When he got back in the house to help her to the car he realized her water broke and the impatient and determined baby was already on its way. He ran to the phone to call the doctor again and heard the television. Realizing there was only a stairway between where they were upstairs in the kitchen and where my two brothers were downstairs in the T.V. room added concern to this already stressful situation. Dad hollered down the stairs, “No matter what, you boys do not come up these stairs!”

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Rosanne, Mick, Me & Dad

Mickey, age seven and a half and Donny nearly four, paid little attention to the hustle and bustle at the top of the stairs. Fortunately, they were more interested in the show than the arrival of a new baby, so it was easy to obey their father’s order.

By the time the doctor got to our home I had already arrived. What an entrance for a nine pound baby! I wish I could remember it… What I do remember is being referred to as their “kitchen baby”. Depending on the day, or the mood, I was amused at the thought of coming into the world in this unusual way, or completely embarrassed.

04-FamilyMurrayHomeI’ve been told Dad often teased Mom during their four pregnancies that he had delivered lots of calves on the farm, so there was no need for a doctor. I guess I was listening.

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Don, Me & Dad

I’ve always had faith in Dad’s abilities. He can usually fix anything I break and is willing to help me build whatever my mind dreams of.  I enjoy discussing ideas with him because he doesn’t tell me I can’t accomplish it, but rather points out the difficulties and then helps me find solutions to make it work out. He’s taught me to work hard for what I wanted and not to be afraid of failure. If the intended outcome didn’t occur on the first, second or third attempt, you just keep on trying and learn from your mistakes. His wisdom, experience, encouragement and optimistic attitude greatly benefit’s my life.

Dad & I Snowmobiling

1980, Dad & I

Dad and Mark

1980, Dad & Mark

Dad showed me how to have fun by providing many outdoor adventures. Horseback riding, waterskiing, snowmobiling, four-wheeling are just a few of my favorite things to do with him. He instilled in me a love for the outdoors.

Dad playing horse

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In addition to being adventurous and hard-working, he is generous with his time and shares everything he has. He cares about people, especially family. He loves my children and husband just as deeply as I feel he loves me.

Dad’s endured much heartbreak, but you’d never know it by his cheery nature. His mother died just a couple of weeks before his twelfth birthday and his father’s death was ten years later. Years passed and a sister was sadly murdered and he was the one who had to identify her body. He’s borne family and business disappointments without bitter feelings. He’s dealt with many health issues with no complaints. His life demonstrates how to accept the things you can’t change with calmness, while having courage to change the things he can. Without calling attention to his hardships, I recognize them and have learned a lot from the way he quietly handles his trials.

Many years have passed since my rare entrance into this world and I’m grateful for the bond it made between us. I appreciate the model he’s given me to pattern my own life and thankful for the love and support he gives me. Dad, I love you!

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2008, Mark & Dad on his 80th birthday party

Happy Father’s Day to two of my favorite men!

 

A Blessed Life

As I look over my life, which is far from perfect, I recognize how fortunate I am. There is nothing like having a birthday to remind me of how grateful I am for parents who not only brought me into this world, but made many sacrifices to give me and my siblings a blessed life. I honor them today as I share a revised version of My Home Delivery, which I wrote last year.

Mom & Dad (2)My parents were married in 1950 and had their first child, Michael (Mickey) sixteen months later. The following year my sister Rosanne was born. Living with two little children in a one bedroom apartment was hard and crowded. Mom and Dad saved their money to buy a lot for a new home in Murray, Utah in 1953.

Since Dad was an excavator and owned a construction company with his brother, he did most of the work including the foundation, septic tank, concrete and framing. He did hire a plumber, electrician and brick mason for their red brick home. By today’s standard, it was a modest, three bedroom, one bath home which Dad did all the finish work on. They were able to move into their new home about nine months after they started building and just before their third child, Donny’s first birthday, in 1956.

A few years later Mom was expecting their fourth child. Since the new baby would need the bedroom my brothers shared across the hallway from our parent’s bedroom, they decided to finish two bedrooms for Mickey and Donny in the basement. The new bedrooms were the only finished area in the basement, but on the opposite end of the basement was a beautiful rock fireplace. They bought a black and white television and put a throw rug by the fireplace with a second-hand couch and also used folding chairs to sit on to watch T.V. This room would later be finished as the family/entertainment room.

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Mom, Dad, Mickey, Rosanne, Donny, Barbara sitting around rock flower box in front of our Murray home.

On Saturday, June 6, 1959, my mom’s parents came for a visit and to take Rosanne home with them for an overnight stay. They did this often, taking turns with each grandchild. After they left, Mom started having strong contractions so Dad called the doctor and told him they were on their way to the hospital. Because of the pain, Mom struggled to walk to the back door towards the garage. Dad rushed ahead to drive the car out of the unattached garage closer to the back door in hopes to make it easier for Mom. When he got back to the kitchen to help her to the car he realized her water broke and the determined baby was already on its way. He ran to the phone to call the doctor again and heard the television downstairs. Panicked, with only a stairway between my parents and the two young boys, Dad hollered down the stairs, “No matter what, you boys do not come up these stairs!”

Mickey, age seven and Donny’s fourth birthday in just three days, paid little attention to the hustle and bustle at the top of the stairs. Seemingly more interested in the television than the arrival of a new baby, it was easy to obey their father’s order.

By the time the doctor got to our home I had already arrived. What an entrance for a nine pound baby! I wish I could remember it… What I do remember is being referred to as the “kitchen baby”. Sometimes I was amused at the thought of coming into the world in this unusual way, but other times I was completely embarrassed.

Dad had always teased Mom during their four pregnancies that he had delivered lots of calves on the farm, so there was no need for a doctor. I guess I was listening. I’ve always had lots of faith in my Dad’s abilities. However, he stopped saying that after my birth.

I later learned the home delivery resulted in a three day stay at the hospital and I came home on Donny’s 4th birthday. I don’t believe I was his only present that year, but he always made me feel like I was his best present.

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Dad holding me with handsome brother, Don in the left bottom corner.

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Dad holding me with Rosanne and Mick on the front porch.

I’ve always considered myself a daddy’s girl and Mom often said I had Dad wrapped around my little finger because he was there for my birth. I was the only child out of their five that he witnessed because at the time fathers were not allowed in the delivery rooms at the hospital.

Twenty-two months later Mom delivered one more baby, my youngest brother, Steven. Because we were the closest in age we shared the upstairs bedroom for several years and had lots of fun playing together. See Siblings by Chance, Friends by Choice.

Me at two years old loving my stuff animal.

Me at two years old loving my stuff animal.

In my elementary years while we were on vacation at Disneyland, I vividly remember begging my dad to buy me a big stuffed animal. “Dad, think of the money I saved you by being born at home,” I pleaded.

“You were the most expensive child!” He replied. “At the hospital I had to admit not one, but TWO patients. You were considered contaminated by being born at home so you were not allowed in the nursery. They kept you in isolation for a few days, which was an added expense.”

Not only sadden by the fact I wasn’t getting the large stuffed animal, I was shocked by his reply. I previously thought I had saved my parents from the whole hospital scene and therefore was some kind of super hero. After all I had been called the kitchen baby by family and friends. Wow, what a blow this information was to me and an indication that I didn’t really have my dad wrapped around my little finger after all—at least not this time.

Now that I’m older and have gone through child bearing  and raising myself, I appreciate what my folks went through to get me here. I even feel a little guilty for being so impatient and determined. These traits I’ve carried throughout my life and they’ve loved and supported me anyway. They are the most giving and caring parents and grandparents I know. I’m blessed to be able to call them Mom and Dad. It’s been a wonderful life, thanks to them!