Thank you Sara for this wonderful guest post.
You are such an awesome writer and great sister!
I believe in quality time. As the youngest of nine children, time, with my parents, was often in short supply, but my dad still made it a priority to spend time with each of us. Dad worked long hard hours Monday through Saturday which meant he couldn't take me to ice cream or skating at the rink. Instead, he would come home and say, “Sara, come take a ride with me in my pickup.” I would go hop into his fire engine red pickup, that always smelled like pine tree air fresheners, and away we’d go. He was still working when he invited me on these rides, but I didn't mind. It didn't matter where we went or what we did as long as we were spending time together. I loved riding with my dad in the pickup.
Frequently, when I rode with my dad, he struggled to stay awake. He got up so early each morning that staying alert was sometimes a tricky endeavor. On those occasions, as dad drove, we sang songs at the top of our lungs. We sang “Loaded sixteen tons and what do you get, another day older and deeper in debt…” Dad’s booming voice would hit every low note. Often, we talked about the gospel. Dad loved the scriptures and knew them inside and out. I could ask him any gospel question I could think of, when I rode in that pickup, and he always had an answer. In the truck, there were no distractions. We didn't listen to the radio for amusement, we simply entertained each other.
We usually traveled to a potato field Dad needed to check on. As we tramped across the dusty spud fields trying to keep from tripping on the vines, Dad taught me about potato yields, fertilizer and the importance of not over-watering. But, more importantly, he taught me about hard work, love, and the importance of making time for one another. He taught me to believe in quality time and to recognize that spending these quiet moments in the pickup and the fields together really equaled big moments. The time spent with Dad, in his truck, allowed me to see what kind of man my father truly was. He took the time, even though he had to work, to get to know me, to teach me, and to love me. He taught me to believe in quality time.