dad on parenting.

Dad loved his family so much. He never hid how much he cared for us all. He would constantly teach us and make us feel good about ourselves.
Here's one excerpt from Dad's amazing missionary journal

"June 19, 1977- Today was Sunday and we had a great day. We are planning to baptize the Venetz family Thursday instead of Friday. I sure am glad that I'm a missionary here. I just can't impress on my mind hard enough how important the gospel is. I am going to be working on my attitudes on several subjects. I also want to be a good father: Little children don't go astray, unless someone older leads the way. Beings so young, how would they know which path to take, which way to go? They must be taught to choose there way? Good example is important every day. They learn love and kindness from you, or they learn wrong by the things you do. Whether you lead them in paths of right or lead them into the darkness. A child will follow and imitate the things you do, YOU mold his fate. We have to pray for guidance, then lead with love and care. Our examples will either make them good or ? We have yet another great responsibility on our heads. But isn't it fantastic that our father in heaven has given us this opportunity to learn and progress. And wouldn't it be a shame if we abused this opportunity. "

He later wrote...

"Aug 10, 1978- ...All 6 contacts should be baptized. For a quick 24 hour fireside this one went the greatest. We did as the spirit directed and received the blessing for it. I cried for happiness tonight. This church means so much to me. I want my children to grow up in the gospel and someday go on a mission also. This is the Lord's church, this I know, for the spirit has revealed it unto me."

I wonder if the old man realized that the very words he was typing in his journal each night would be a major reasons his children have turned out the way we have.

Yes indeed, Dad was an amazing father. He would always randomly say good things like "Life is too short to be dishonest. We are so proud of you. I sure love you kid. You've got it so good you know. You're so lucky to have your spouse. Education is so important. Don't you dare join the army unless you're an officer first. You're so smart kid. If I was half as smart as you. If you mess up, fess up. etc...."
Now, don't get me wrong he had his fair share of completely inappropriate fathering techniques. For example, a few of the family favorites:

1) A stiff dick has no conscience. Dad thought that this one was so clever that he couldn't even contain himself from only telling me and David. He proceeded to shock us by telling all our friends. Andy in particular seemed horrified when Dad explained it to him.

2) It's better to want something you don't have than to have something you don't want. This would sometimes be replaced by the similar Don't trade what you want forever for what you want in the moment. This clever little phrase was so often repeated to David and I that he actually made us commit it to memory and say it back to him when we left with our friends or on dates. On at least three occasions he made me repeat it to him in front of girls. The funniest thing is, that David and I had no clue what this meant for a really long time, we finally came to the conclusion that he must mean that it's better to want sex and not have it than to want sex, have it, have a baby and not want it.

3) More than two shakes and you're playing with it. OR the similar... You'll go blind! Dad started telling David and I this when we were like 5 in lieu of having the dreaded sex talk (which we never got). Again, we had no idea what in the world he meant. He would just say one of those two things out of the blue at random times and then go off giggling to himself.

4) You're home late, lick your fingers. I forgot about this gem. Jodi still doesn't get it.

5) Remember who you are. Which went nicely with and was always followed immediately followed by #6.

6) Return with honor. A true dad classic.

7) If I found out you're gay I'd kill you! My father was absolutely PARANOID that either David or I or both of us were gay. He fixated on it constantly. He was certain that we were gay. It didn't help that Miles would occasionally call and leave a message on the answering machine that went like this "Taylor, just tell your dad. He won't be mad. He'll understand! My parents understood when I told them. We love each other! Don't let you dad get in between us." And it didn't help that some people thought it was ok to refer to David and Kenny as the Thompsons, I guess we know who the guy is in that relationship.

8) You're grounded indefinitely! This was especially relevant to David who referred it. The poor child was grounded his entire life.

9) The poo poo train, the poo poo train, Everybody rides on the poo poo train. Dad loved this little jingle. He'd sing it all the time when we were getting potty trained. We would sing along too. The problem was that it sorta lost it's novelty when we got older and he'd still sing it in front of our friends expecting us to sing along. (important note: I thought I'd add a funny picture here of a poo poo train. However, upon doing a websearch of poo poo train I can fully discourage that any of you make that same mistake.)

10) Don't even think about coming home high cuz I've used them all and I'll know. True as the gospel. There was no foolin the man on that front. The old man made all the mistakes so we wouldn't have to.

I Miss Bill!

I saw this bumber sticker on the back of some person's car at the gym. I couldn't help but agree....

Catch and Release

When it came to entertainment, Dad had several favorite sports. I think one of his all time favorites would definitely be catch and release boyfriend fishing. As soon as Alicia and I were old enough to date, Dad became obsessed with setting us up. This obsession became more and more intense as we both got older. I remember going on a bike ride with dad as the "rescue driver" (meaning he went ahead of us in the truck and scoped out the route). He would circle back to us every five minutes or so to let me know that he had found the perfect guy for me...holding a construction sign on the side of the road a few miles up...or out baling hay at a farm nearby. He was shameless, he would stop anyone he saw, ask if they were single and if they served a mission (these seemed to be the only real selection criteria from what I saw) and then let them know he had a single daughter who was apparently desperate. I would then have to ride past and pretend not to notice the goofy looking guy in the hay field giving me the eye.

This passion was not confined to road trips. Heaven forbid you try and go to a restaurant with the man. I can't even begin to count how many waiters and bus boys I have been pawned off on during the course of a meal. "Hey, you seem like a nice guy. Did you serve a mission? Why don't you take my daughter out sometime?...Yeah that one right there trying to crawl under the table". One of my favorite memories was right after Dad had his second stroke. He was in the ICU at the University of Utah hospital for a week or so and just happened to have a young, male nurse for his entire stay. I guess I should have been grateful that Dad was feeling himself again when he started subtly and not so subtly suggesting that his nurse should really hook up with his pretty daughter. Matters only became worse when his mother came into town. Now both my Oma and my dad were pretty much deaf but didn't seem to realize that no one else in the room was. In front of both me and the poor nurse, they would start to talk about what a cute couple we would make. Then they would comment on how he was not a member of the church but maybe he could convert. Are you kidding me? We're both sitting right here!

But as much fun as catching boyfriends was, dad's real passion was all about the release. It took me years to bring home a boy that I was actually interested in dating, not because I was embarrased by my family, but more because I was afraid dad would run him off. Dad was shameless when it came to the overprotective father act. He lived for it. As soon as I showed up at home with any boy (regardless of whether or not we were actually dating) dad would bust out the shot gun...or the switch blade...or a pistol with a highly acurate laser scope...or a grenade (a grenade? Who even owns a grenade for pete's sake?) and start to explain exactly what would happen to the aforementioned gentleman should he decide to lay his hands on me, get me home late or in any way come even close to making me cry.

Dad would put signs on the door stating "Potential boyfriend endurance trials, get to the car before the buckshot and you can go out with her". He would make boys leave $50 deposits that they might get back at the end of the night if I made it home on time and in one piece. He would send small children out to hang on my legs, call me mommy and ask if the new boy was going to be their new daddy (he also made all of us do this to my aunts when we were younger so I guess that one was just karma). After his stroke he even learned how to cock a shotgun with one hand just so he could still meet my dates at the door and say "run boy".

But despite all the embarrassment, I guess I'm actually really grateful that he ran off all of the jerks for me. Aaron was the first guy I think I ever brought home that dad actually didn't threaten and later told me I was crazy if I didn't hold on to this one...and that if I didn't take him, he would. I'm so grateful that dad got to know my husband before he died and that he loved me enough to care about who I spent my life with.

I'll get you last my pretty! (evil cackle)

This is the epidomy of my dad and my relationship! He tricks me, I trick him back, he one ups me, I spit in his food, he pours water on me while I'm sleeping, I take advantage of my fashion consultant role in the house and tell him that he should wear one of mom's heart shirts to work and it looks good (and he did), he sells my cheerleading bumpkins to the neighbor boys......and so on.....

Some of my favorite memories of my father have to do with pranks. Afterall, I am way too much like him in this aspect. This is why we butted heads for so many years, but I think we really began to understand each other after a while.

I remember running for my life around the house one day because my dad was going to give me a swirly in the toilet. Now let me clarify what my dad's swirlies are like. They're not the "un oh look you're hanging upside down over the toilet and I'm going to flush!".......oh no! He would actually insert our heads inside the toilet bowl and let our hair swirl around as he flushed it! Are you kidding me! I was willing to run out of the house naked if I had to, to get away from his swirly wrath! So, I am running and I come to a fork in the hallway, I see our huge black dog blocking my escape route, so at the last minute I opt for the left hand turn into the kitchen and.......BAM! I run write into the corner of the wall! Oh the pain! My head immediately began to bleed and for those of you who don't know me that well, pain is not my game. It took 5 nurses or so to hold me down just to give me a tetnis shot, let alone try to stitch me up. I wouldn't allow that needle to get that close to my face, so a scar remains on my right brow in memory of the swirly chases that brought so much joy to our family!

My dad became so predictable in his latter years, but for a while there when we were growing up, he really got us good! Okay, lets be honest, that man may have been slightly predictable, but he continued to shock us until his dying day. Well, I remember how much he loved to "test" out the fire alarm(smoke detector) at our house. He would set it off early in the morning, I'm talking 5-6AM (which doesn't exist in my conscious world) and he would run through the house screaming "Fire, Fire!! Everyone out of the house!" All four kids and his unsuspecting wife would all wake up in a panic and jet for the front door. He would follow behind us and at the last minute, he would smile and slam the door in our faces and lock us out! Now remember that we were all in our pajamas, or my mother in her underwear!It would take a few exorcist voice yells from mom to get him to finally unlock the door again. Whew, how traumatic fire drills are for us now. :)

I would always dread, and I mean dread my dad coming to pick me up from school in elementary, jr. high, and especially high school. He would make a point to make it the most embarassing experience of my life. Every single time, without fail, he would park our beat up minivan in the most obvious spot right in front of the doors. He would get out of the car and when he saw us he would wave his arms frantically and act "handicapped," yelling our names and making a scene. After he made sure that he had everyone's attention, he would then hustle to hop in the van before we got there, chuckling to himself. Oh, and here is the kicker! He would start to pull away and make us chase the van. As soon as we would sprint to catch up, he would slow down and let us get almost to the door handle and then he would speed up again, roaring in laughter. Everyone around us would always be quite humored by this occasion. My friends always said they wished their parents were as funny and goofy and my dad. "Um, no you don't!" I would say. But I really seem to agree now looking back. Humor was the best medicine for any circumstance. Thank you dad for teaching me that.

So, 3 weeks before I was scheduled to leave on my mission to the Canary Islands and while Michelle and Taylor were already in the mission field, my dad decides to steal all the glory by having a huge stroke. This was the first stroke that paralyzed his left side. It was extremely difficult to watch as his ability to walk, write, eat and work were taken away from him, after he had worked so hard to gain it back after the tumor (including obtaining his bachelors degree in Engineering!) I questioned whether it was right to still go on my mission now that my family had so many burdens in front of them. I spent every single day up at the hospital with him after that stroke. It was a time I will never forget because I really got to spend time talking to my dad and getting to know him. We grew very close to one another and shared many laughs. I continued my prank-pulling to ease the severity of the challenges he faced. My favorite thing was to feed him. I would get the fork so close to his mouth and then.....oh, pull it away! I would give him a sip of his sacred coca cola and right when he could taste its heavenly glory, I would.....oh, pull it away! hahahahah Payback is so so sweet. We would take strolls in the wheelchair through the hospital. Since, he only had one functioning arm now, he could only go in circles without me. So I would push him into some old unsuspecting patient's room and leave him there. He would panic as the old person would look at him with confusion. Instead of awkwardly staring at the person, he would strike up some off-colored conversation with them until I returned to rescue him. Cute dad.

While in the hospital, he expressed his concern that I still needed to go on my mission. He said that I could be of no greater help than to share the gospel with those that needed it. That was my dad's #1 goal in life, to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with others because it had made such a difference in his own life. I knew he was right, so as difficult as it was, I took that leap of faith and left to Spain, not knowing if my father would be around when I got home. One of the first letters I got from him in the Spain MTC was this one:

What an example of humility. He was learning to write his alphabet again at age 45. He wanted to encourage me to work hard and so he let me know that he was "getting better every day" with this small gesture. I hold this piece of paper close to my heart because it represents so much of who my father was. His character lives on in each of his children. He has been my hero since I was a little girl and I will continue to honor him for the rest of my life......including the practical jokes! waa hahahahaha!

Bill Gone Merchandising

written by my Mom

"... Dad is doing better. But I am still nervous about leaving him at home, what with all the falling and everything. Last Wednesday I took him to work with me. I left him in the parking lot of K-mart while I was inside working. He fell asleep and was awakened by the sirens of an ambulance. He saw it pull up in front of the store and for some reason thought they were there for him so he got out of the car an started waving for them. Luckily after a few steps he realized he was alright and hurried and hid back in the car. I think he has become like an ambulance zombie or something.
Then this older gentlemen got out of his car next to ours and bent over next to a Ford Pick-up truck and started vomiting. Bill rolled down his window and yelled, "Yeah, Ford's do the same thing to me!!" The poor old man, who was choking stared cracking up he was laughing so hard. His wife on the other hand became very irate and told Bill he was going to kill her husband and to be quiet.
Later that day in another parking lot he saw a woman get out of her car with a baby carrier. She went around to her trunk and opened it. Bill panicked and thought she was going to put the baby in the trunk. He yelled at her not to put her baby in the trunk. Needless to say the woman became very irate and called him some very choice names. I think I have found a solution to all our money problems. I'm going to take Bill to work every day with me and then we are going to write a book called "Life in the Parking Lot." Guaranteed a best-seller. What do you think? I thought leaving him home on Thursday would be a better idea since he got in so much trouble the day before. Bad idea!..."

She then goes on to tell the story already written down under the practical jokes section about Dad's greatest prank when he emailed Mom's friends from her account telling them he had died.

How Mom and Dad fell in Love

in his own words; the most amazing love story ever...
"Hey ya Sister Sparks and Elder Sparks,
Howz my Batisn, butt bustin, early risin, long prayin daughter and son? A little bit scary when you start getting short. I know, I was once thee myself. I had a stupid sister missionary, not Sister Tanner, that started throwing parties for me the last couple weeks of my mission.

A long time ago, I can still remember when I flew home with the famous Sister Tanner. I was excited that she was in our group coming home together. We were allowed to go to the Swiss Temple for a day before coming home. We had 5 missionaries in our group. 3 Elders and 2 Sisters. When we were in a session together in the Swiss Temple, I saw an American returned missionary friend that had been a good friend to missionaries. As the pray circle began to form, I whispered in his ear that Sister Tanner really liked him. That was all it took. He was a good looking son of a gun. I though t it was a match made in heaven. The trans Atlantic fight was long. We all had to take turns talking to chatty Sister Tanner. All she could talk about was Kerry Wright, Ron Wright's brother. The girl that had been waiting for me had just sent a sterling silver bracelet that said "All my love." Sister Tanner kept telling me "metal demands metal" and that I was dead meat. That brakes went out on the plane in Boston. And we had to wait an additional 6 hour while they fixed the plane. They would not let us off the plane because of customs. Needless to say, by this time I had heard Sister Tanner's life story many times. By the time we got to Chicago we had been awake a very long time. We all had to run like crazy to catch the last planes out to different locations. We quickly exchanged addresses, bid a hasty farewell and that was that. When I got to LAX it fogged in and we had to fly to Edwards Air Force Base and take a bus to LAX. The bus got a flat tire on the way to LAX. It was 4 AM when I finally saw my family. I got home, slept for 2 hours and got up and went to church. I was wasted, which wasn't the look I was going for, my ward had seen me wasted before. They asked me to give the opening prayer and I did it in German accidentally. I immediately entered the meat market as a newly returned RM. As you well know, chicks dig me. There was Leslie, Lori, Lynn and Linda.
Two months after I came home, one day after work my mom said that Sister Tanner had called ans was coming to sunny Cal. I thought she had a lot of gall to come and visit me with her new husband. I called her back and much to my surprise she wasn't married yet. She was coming to Cal with some girl friends and wanted to cash in a coupon I gave her to go surfing and deep sea fishing on my dad's boat.
2 weeks later, Mom, Trudi, Janet Van der Graf (Bacon's mom) were in sunny Cal. I picked them all up from the Disneyland hotel, and we headed down to the ocean. When we got out of the marina, they all stripped down into their bathing suits. These were fine women. I glanced briefly at your Mom and was overcome with guilt because that was Sister Tanner I was looking at. And holy moly I didn't have any idea that Sister Tanner looked that good in a bathing suit. I took them out into the harbor to look at some of the huge boats like the Queen Mary. Suddenly all of Mom's friends wanted to go lay on the beach. I thought, "fur rude!" It's very difficult to get an ocean boat to the beach. I navigated that boat up to rocky break water and the 3 of them jumped out leaving me alone with Sister Tanner in a swim suit. I anchored off shore and talked for a long time about how much we missed the mission field and President Busche. She told me how things had not worked out with Kerry and I told her how Leslie was cold hamburger. A couple of hours later we picked up the girls from the beach and headed over to my favorite surfing spot. I anchored the boat and jumped into the water with my surfboard hoping for the chance to show off my surfing skills. I paddled out into the lineup (surfer lingo for who's up next.) As I was waiting for the next set of waves to come in, I noticed that the anchor had broken loose. I started listening to the surfers around me talking about a boat load of bitchin' babes that were in trouble. I casually paddled over, jumped in the boat, and rode into surfer folklore as the surfer that saved a boat load of beautiful women that dragged him off and later ravaged him.
Ain't folklore's great? After I took the boatload of hot chicks back to the Disneyland hotel, I invited them to a multi stake dance that night. They accepted and I picked them up that night. Your mom looked soooo good. But I was still calling her Sister Tanner. I barely had a chance to dance with her. During the night, I needed to go outside and get a breath of fresh air. I got outside feeling just a little frustrated that I would never have a shot at a girl as beautiful as Sister Tanner. She could have any guy she wanted. As I was standing there lost in frustration, Sister Tanner, who had already been outside, walked up to me and said hi. During the car ride home, I took a chance and told her that if she lived closer, I would love to date her. She responded "That would be nice." But my gut told me I wouldn't see her again. I dropped them off at the hotel and said goodbye for what I thought would be the last time.
One month later, one of the American soldiers that I baptized invited me up for his wedding in the Salt Lake Temple so I called Sister Tanner and asked if I could come visit, good thing for me, she agreed.
So I went to the marriage in the morning, stopped by the mother of one of my companions in the afternoon and asked her for information on a good place to eat. I showed up at Grandpa's house in the evening. I guess I was early because Mom was just betting back from jogging to JoAn's house. I had borrowed my sister Helen's little Karman Ghia. You sit really low in this car and since I already sit close to the ground, she hoped that I would just disappear. No way, not after a 600 mile trip. I came back later and she was all spiffed up. It was then that I met Grandma for the first time. She was cool, but cordial. I took Sister Tanner to an upscale restaurant in Salt Lake City. It was called Victoria Station. It was over dinner that she told me that one time on a date, she dropped a whole salad in her lap. On the way home we listened to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's song "Our House." We talked about what we wanted in a family some day. We both wanted 12 kids, but having you 4 wised us up a little. Just before we got back to Roy, I opened the glove box and gave her a single red rose. By this point, your Mom had me thoroughly whooped... I was head over heals in love with her. We had the one date and I headed back home the next day. All I could think of from that moment on was your Mom. I didn't think I even had a chance. I thought she was just being nice to me because we were fellow missionaries from the same mission. After I returned home, I continued dating a girl name Lynn Tennis. I liker her because she was the only girl I knew that enjoyed studying the Dead Sea Scrolls with me. One day when I came home from work, Helen came up to me and said Bill, please don't do it! I said "Do what??" She then said Lynn had asked her to be a bridesmaid in her wedding to me. This surprised me a little since I had not asked her to marry me. It was then that my sister Helen did the best thing that she has ever done for me. ...TO BE CONTINUED..."

That's all Dad ever got to. It took him a whole day to type it with one hand (one finger really.) Dad loved Mom so much. He always told us how lucky a guy he was and how she could have had any guy she wanted.

The rest of the story to come later...

Brother Down! and other temple favorites.

One of my dad's favorite things of all time was the temple. Arguably the thing that made him happier than anything else in this life was when he was able to go to the temple with all of his children. He circled all of his children in a big hug in the celestial room and said that there was no greater accomplishment than that in his life. He would have been so happy to see Alicia go on to marry Ryan and David go on to marry Britta Bergstrom, but he will soon enough.

Now Dad was always interesting to go to the temple with. Here's one of my favorite stories as told by my mom when Davide first went through to take out his endowments.

"... The only thing David had to say for sure about the temple is that Dad isn't allowed in there anymore. I don't know if you can blame the stroke or not but since then he has become very careless about where he chooses to pass gas and he certainly doesn't try to keep them quiet anymore. Any time he strains trying to stand up or something out they rip. He ripped two or three more really loud ones in the temple and even David was so ashamed. Grandpa poked him in the ribs with his elbow in disapproval. Poor Dad. But I agree with David. He probably needs to be banned from the temple.
Let me tell you what happened last Friday. Michelle and I and your Dad decided to go do a session in the temple. Well, it takes Dad a really long time to get dressed and up to the chapel and he has a hard time walking all the snow and ice. So we dropped him off at the door of the temple and Michelle said, "Okay Dad, we're giving you a head start, let's see if you can get up to the chapel before us." Bad, bad thing to say to him. Se w park the car, go in the temple, get dressed and head on up to the chapel. We still wait another 15-20 minutes for Dad. Eventually he comes hobbling in with his "I did a bad thing" face. He sits down between the 2 of us and mumbles, "Competition isn't a good thing in the temple" Then he proceeds to tell us the whole sad story. As he was in his booth in the locker room trying to change, he was hurrying and lost his balance and fell down. He only had his white shirt and garment bottoms on. As he fell he slid along the wall and it pulled his bottoms down below his butt. He then fell on the door on his bad arm. He is on the floor and can't get up! There is a temple worker outside his door who sees that he has fallen and starts yelling, yes yelling, no quiet temple voice here, as loud as he can "BROTHER DOWN, BROTHER DOWN!!!!!" He probably yelled hit 9 times! Pretty soon Dad looks out from underneath the booth and there are about 14 feet standing there. Every temple worker from a 5 mile radius had come running! They couldn't get in to help him because he was laying against the door blocking it from opening. So they are just shoving on the door as hard as they can trying to get in to help him but they are only hitting him hard on the head each time they try to push the door open! Itwas pretty comical. Poor Dad. He is so humble and has such a great send of humor that he can laugh suchthings off.
He eventually makes it upstairs and he heads into the session. He has to ask the temple workers for help during the session because he can't put his temple clothes on by himself without his left arm. So an older gentleman sits down next to him and helps him throughout the session with his clothes. Pretty soon Dad is looking over at Michelle and I and pulling funny faces and nodding toward the man next to him. I couldn't figure out what he was trying to say. After the session he told us that L. Tom Perry, the apostle, was the gentleman siting next to him, helping him! It was pretty neat. He came and found Dad afterward in the locker room and talked to him. Dad was able to ask him it was alright for him to go up to the prayer circle without being able to do all the things with his left arm. It is something that Dad has felt really bad about. Bro. Perry said of course it was okay so tonight he went up with Michelle while I was with David. It was great. "