...my Dad.

I recognize that nearly every little girl whether she’s 2 or 92 thinks her dad is pretty much the greatest man who ever lived. I think it’s wonderful that as women, we revere these men who have such influence in molding and shaping our lives. I’m sure your dad is absolutely wonderful. However, mine, really is the best. Ever.
He’s the best at taking my sisters and I horseback riding & camping when we were so young we couldn’t even reach the stirrups. We’d ride double (I always ended up on back because I was the tallest, got thrown nearly every time…)
He’s the best at teaching me how to drive and then sending me out in the hay field to practice. I was 7. (Again, because I was tall and could reach the petals and still see over the steering wheel.)
He’s the best at teaching us to put up a shelter for girls camp, teaching me how to tie a double half hitch (it’s a knot you silly city kids), and showing us how to howl at a full moon.
My dad is the best at teaching me life lessons and then allowing me to make my own mistakes (even though his not so subtle guidance of “Well, you can do what you want, but if I were a little girl your size….”)
My dad is the best at preparing me to go on a mission, “I don’t think you realize just how hard a mission is going to be. Once you’re there, home is not an option.”
My dad is the best at showing me what an honest day’s labor looks like. Showing me how to love the land, love the soil, how to leave things better than you found them.
My dad is the best at telling stories – Benjamin Beaver, life lessons, or tall tales, Dad tells them all the best.
My dad is a wonderful father, a respected uncle and a loving grandpa. He imparts wisdom and council in a way that makes you want to please him.
My dad is also the very best a being stubborn. In case you wondered, that’s where I learned it, from my Pop.
My dad is one of the very best men I know. I don’t think he’s ever been in a boardroom and only wears suits to the temple, weddings and occasionally to church and most of the time to funerals. He prefers his clothing loose and comfortable and would rather entertain a 2 year-old than pretty much anyone else on the planet. Given the chance to go anywhere in the world, he’d probably just stay home in his mountains (or go back to Alaska… he likes it there too. Sparse population.) He loves his wife, his children and his grandchildren. He takes his church responsibilities seriously and although he may never be a Bishop, Stake President or a General Authority, he teaches Sunday School in a manner that I think even the Savior would sit and listen to, supports his leaders with unfailing sustaining and has a love of God that is unquestionable.
But did I mention my Dad’s a little stubborn?
Just a little bit.
Like nearly every little girl, I love my Dad. I love how each time I leave his home he tells me to “try and be a little bit better girl” and has even on occasion told me he loves me.
Yep. My daddy is the best one.
I just wish he weren’t quite so stubborn.
There’s just something about my Dad.