My Dad

This week is my dads birthday.  LeRoy Mayo Shiflett II would turn 66 this week if he was still alive.  However, he passed away 17 years ago.  He died before either of my boys were born and I like to think that they met before I had Kelton and Taylor.  Both boys do things that only my dad could have taught them because he knew it would push my buttons.  There were a lot of things about my dad that wasn't perfect, but, even as bad as things were I look back now and realize that things could always have been worse (I have seen it this week with a father killing himself and his boys this weekend).  Even though he had a hard time showing it, I know that he loved us and was willing to do whatever he had to do to support us.  It would be really easy to focus on the bad and become bitter but I would rather know that those hard times made me who I am and to spend the time that I have remembering all the good times that we shared during his short life.

My dad loved to spend time with his family and spent hours doing service for them.  Later in his life he also spent countless hours serving our community through the red cross.  He loved to joke around and have fun, he had the best laugh.  He shared his love of fast cars, guns, racing, cowboy movies and adventures with me.  When I was growing up we would spend Sunday watching NASCAR and any war or cowboy movie.  He was the master of  the remote...he could flip between two or three shows at one time and not miss a thing.

He taught me how to handle and shoot a gun.  He taught me how to drive my first car that had a manual transmission.  He taught me how to do a tune up on my car (it was "required" before I could drive it, since I'm not patient we did the tune up in a snow storm. It was so much fun gaping spark plugs in the snow).  He taught me how to work on his race car, prepare him and the car in the staging lanes and how to guide him into the water box so he could do his burn out and stage for each race.  He taught me how to be willing to serve and to use forgiveness in my life.  He taught me the importance of doing genealogy work (I'm still working on incorporating that into my life).  He taught me how to tell a good story. After I was married he taught me the importance of tithing and was there by my side while Kenny and I got ready to be sealed in the Temple.

Before he was my dad, he grew up in a time when muscle cars were the norm and everyone had one.  He had one of the fastest Roadrunners that I know of (other than the one my uncle Ron had).  He was always a rebel and never missed a chance to push the limits.  Once example of this is a story that I heard many times that he would carry a cooler in the trunk of his car full of beer.  He would meet up with his buddies between classes and "enjoy" a beer before going to their next class.  He was a known tough guy and was not someone that would put up with anyone's crap (he would have said that much differently).  He loved his time with the guys and was always with his brother and best friend.  They had been together and joined at the hip since before time.  In fact my uncle and this friend are still close and do things together all the time.

Hunting was one of his other loves.  He would go hunting every year. They didn't always come back with a deer but they always came back with some amazing stories.  We would hear bits and pieces between hunting season and Christmas.  Then on Christmas Eve (our traditional family Christmas party night) over spaghetti and meatballs we would hear the real story of what happened that year and then it would be compared to other years and if it had been better or safer or colder or whatever else they could think of.  By the time I was 7 I could have recounted every story I had ever heard because we heard them every year.  For some reason the only story I remember now is the one where my uncle somehow drove his truck off a cliff (I never heard how large the cliff was but since they drove home I'm guessing it wasn't a large cliff).  Oh, did I mention that there was beer involved in that story as well.

If he would let you past that rough exterior you would find the most loving person around.  He also had a deep love of the Savior that he kept closely guarded next to his heart.  He did serve a mission to England for The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints.  He was always true to himself and never would pretend to be something else just to make someone happy.  He was who he was and I will always admire the strength it took for him to always be honest.  I know that it sounds contradictory, that he liked to push the limits and be a rebel and at the same time was always honest about who he was with himself and with others but that was how he was.  He definitely grew as he got a bit older, as we all do, and I guess that is how it somehow meshes together.  How I can put his stories of how he was younger and how he was as he grew older and you end up with this amazing person who loved to have fun.

There is no way I could ever do his life justice in one entry so I think I will add a little something about him every year for his birthday.  My boys love to hear stories about their grandpa and so I will start to share them every year with everyone.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!!

I will always love you!