My "I Remember" letter to Mom for mothers day 1994

Mom,

                I know this is a little late but this is your Mother’s day present.  I’ll call this my “I Remember” letter.  It does have a string attached.  I would like you to write me a “I Remember” letter in return.

I remember when I was 4 or 5 Dad grounded me for a week to the house.  I was to stay inside for a whole week “no playing outside”.  After the second or third day you told me I could go out and play while Dad was gone to work as long as we didn’t tell.  At the time I thought you were rewarding me for being such a GOOD boy the days I had stayed in, but now looking back I think you probably just needed a break from my punishment.

I remember when we were bringing the pony up from the pasture.   He didn’t want to leave his girlfriend Taffy our other horse. So Dad had to lead him, with me riding on his back to the house.  When we got to the house with the hay field between us and the pasture where we kept the horses, dad gave me the reigns and the pony took off, returning to his friend.  I’ve never gone so fast.  He was running so fast when I opened my mouth to yell nothing came out because of all the air rushing in.  My heart was leaping out of my chest. I was scared for my life and thought it was surly my time to die.  I was trying not to tinkle in my pants, all in a panic holding on for dear life.  In a desperate attempt to save my life I looked to my parents for help.  There was my Mom jumping up and down like a cheerleader yelling and clapping your hands, “Yaa hoo! Ride ‘em cowboy…Yeah” and Dad was yelling, “Drop and roll! Drop and roll!”

I remember the time we went to Malad looking for shoes.  I had just realized what girls were and there was one hum dinger of a cutie running the till in the store.  While you were busy looking at shoes I was strutting my stuff by the men’s brief’s section.  Now she was quite a bit older than me but I didn’t back down.  I was laying it on (as best as a fourteen boy can).  I was just about ready to give her the look!...when you stood up with a pair of black converse sneakers and said, “Brent I found some CHEEP ones.”  I tried to look around as if to see who that strange woman might be talking to.  But alas, I was the only one there.  What was to be the start of something beautiful between her and me was now just a sneaker sale.

I remember when Bryan was chasing me through the house with a hobby knife.  Somewhere in the chase the protective cover fell off. When I stopped suddenly Bryan ran into me and stabbed me in the back. YES you just read that right my brother stabbed me. Once again the veil went thin or at least I thought it should have by the look on Bryan’s face. He ran and got you. After you had assessed the situation you determined that it might need stitches but that we were not going to tell the doctor (or anyone for that matter) that your sons had stabbed one another. After all, what would people think? So all the way into town we were lectured on why it was important to keep this just between us. You dropped us off at the library while you went to the drug store to get some butterfly bandages. We left the library and started to walk over to the drug store when the first person we saw from across the road and a block down the street, shouted, “Hey, Bryan, I heard you stabbed your brother.”

I remember at our wrestling matches how loudly you would cheer for us when we more on top of our opponent. I could hear your voice above everyone cheering me on, “Get him! Get him, Brent!” and when they were getting the better of me it was, “Don’t you hurt my boy!”

I remember the time you rolled the car on the way to one of my free style wrestling matches. We were rushing down the hill by Bloxham’s farm. The road was slushy with snow and ice. The car lost control going down the hill at the curve we slid sideways hit the snow bank and rolled over and over into the snow.  I grabbed hold firmly planted in my seat and terror shot through me followed by great joy and happiness, for in the vanity mirror on my visor I saw my two younger sisters Jolene and Denise and my younger brother, Darrin being tossed around like rag dolls in a big dryer. Now I am thankful no one was hurt to bad, but I’m most thankful for the look on their faces as the car rolled over and over. To an older brother that loved to torment his younger siblings, that was truly a beautiful sight. J

I remember when I wrecked your car.  I was out on a date and had chosen to take the scenic way home through the canyon where you could stop and enjoy the stars.  When we were leaving, it had started to snow quite heavily and the roads were slick.  I remember turning the wheel but the car went straight…right off a cliff.  This was the first time in my 17 years that I thought I was going to die. (Now for me to say that means something kuz I had been in numberless life threatening situations before)  The car came to a rest upside down in a creek about 30 ft. down.  The girl I was with had a broken nose, puncture wounds in her leg, and was scraped up pretty badly.  I had a broken collar bone and was already blushing from the guff I would have to take Monday at school for taking my girl up the canyon.  We walked out two miles to a house in the storm with no coats.  When I called you the phones weren’t working very well and I couldn’t hear you.  So I just told you that I had wrecked the car and to meet me at the emergency room.  I’m not sure how you got into town because that car was our main transportation and the storm was getting worse.  I remember pulling into the hospital parking lot.  There you were standing under the light at the emergency entrance, arms folded, tapping your toes with a grim look on your face.  I knew I was in bad trouble.  I got out of the car and headed toward you…maybe limping a little more than I had to.  The grim look melted away into a loving concern.  I learned two very important things that night: 1. Your Love for me was unconditional and 2.  Never take your date up a snow packed winding canyon road if you don’t have to…No, but really, number 2. The importance of Prayer!

I remember you always slipping me a buck or two my last year of school whether I was rich that day or poor.  i knew you didn't have any extra money. I asked you once why you did that when you knew I had enough of my own.  You said, “This time in your life will probably be the most remembered. I just want to help”.  That one or two dollars may have only seemed to have bought cinnamon rolls and a pop at Flags West truck stop but in my heart there is a debt of gratitude that I can never repay.   THANKS!!!

P.S.  I also remember on our farm, plucking chickens, gathering eggs, our big garden, selling corn from our field, riding my bike everywhere, Jolene hanging from the roof gutter, scraping pigs, milking cows, taking the big German shepherd dog to the pound, breaking Shetland ponies, you as my cub scouts leader, building the addition to the house and dad throwing the hammer to you and you closing your eyes and catching it on your head, moving to Idaho, snakes, snow drifts, clinkers, the Honda 70, running us all over like a taxi, crying at the end of “Old Yeller” and “Where the Red Fern Grows”.  Endless hugs, kisses on scrapes and bruises, moving sprinkler pipes, more crying over books & movies, you taking over when dad was gone on T.D.Y. your help with my boys at there births, endless little league, piano lessons, signing lessons, sports, taking me back when I was like5 years old to return a stolen gun and making me talk to the manager and apologize, staying up late to hear about my dates or other activities, horse drawn sleigh rides at Christmas to go caroling, Burned offerings and wonderful feasts for dinner, and me burning our haystacks and out buildings down.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY-MAY 1994

 

My dad is a work horse and my ramblings

The other day as I was driving home I heard the question on the radio,” If you were an animal, what animal would you be?” After thinking this out with no real answer for myself, I began to think of others. Then my thoughts settled on my Dad I started to think what would he be if he were an animal? The thing that stuck as I reviewed all the possibilities was a “work horse”.

This thought brought to mind the first time I saw a real work horses in action. It was at the Idaho State Fair when I was in my teens. The announcer told us that these horses were in the light weight class. They were younger, smaller (still huge) horses and would come out nervous and prancing. They were hard to handle and you could feel their pent-up energy about to be released.  Farm hands would wrestle and pull or even some times drag on the reins trying with all their might to keep all that power under control. I couldn’t believe they were the light weight class. There was a large metal hook that was connected to the team of horses that was dropped into a ring on the weighted sled. This was what would connect them and they could then start to pull. The goal was to pull it a certain distance then they would stop. Each round more weight would be added to the sled making it harder to pull. When the sled was too heavy to be pulled the full distance, who ever pulled it the farthest was the winner. Sometimes the horses would hear the “clink” of the hook connecting them to the sled and they were off. Leaving men to jump out of the way scrambling for their life to get out of the way of the runaway weighted sled. I heard that fingers would be cut off if the guy hooking the team up wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes they would miss the hook and the team would take off without the sled and drag the handler down the track. Wide eyed I moved down to the arena fence and knelt down so I could get an up close look at these awe inspiring athletes work.  

 

Each class of horse brought out bigger and bigger animals. I remember still the impressive, mammoth creatures that came out as they introduced the heavy weight class grand champion team from last year as they entered the arena to make their pull. An older gentleman was handling them and he spoke softly to them as they moved. He called each of them by name and they would respond to his confidant quiet voice. These extra large athletes were calm and well mannered. It seemed to me that the three of them had a relationship probably from countless hours over the past years of working together day after day. Each knew what the other needed and wanted instinctively. The handler dressed in his warn out coveralls walked them in and backed them up to the sled calm as a Sunday morning. They stood there while they were hooked up and I noticed that the old guy never stopped talking to them. Always calling them by name, calm and reassuring he issued every instruction with the flip of this or that reign. They waited quietly for the command to perform.  When he was ready and everyone was out of the way he, calling them by name asked if they were ready, then just made a clicking noise. These two giants in perfect unison took a step forward and leaned into their harnesses. Up on their toes, with hoofs sinking into the soft arena floor, muscles bulging, veins popping the harness pulled tight into their skin and they began slowly to move the heavy overloaded sled forward. Slow at first then building speed, step for step till they crossed the finish line at a good pace. It was a sight I will never forget.

As I reflected on the animals attributes and likening them to my father I came up with the following;

Dad has always been a real eager go-getter. In my mind he is unstoppable when he puts his mind to something. Sometimes when I was young I would see him much like those strong, young, high strung horses. He would charge into a problem knowing he could do, or overcome whatever the challenges may be, and most of the time he could and would. Once in a while this high-strung approach would create a situation that… (Later much later) we could reflect on and get a little chuckle out of.

Raised a farm boy in Vernal UT he has worked hard his whole life, from early in the morning till late at night. It would seem like all those years of hard charging has extracted a toll on him. He gets up a little slower now with a few grunts, his joints don’t move like they use to and he doesn't heal as quick when he gets kicked or bucked off. But he still works hard and can out work most of the young guys in spite of the creaks and pain his body now offers him. He is calmer these days as he moves into a new project. Still sure he can and will come out on top. Time, a large Idaho farm and six teen age children have rode the rough off of him, smoothed out the edges of this old rolling stone. Now he is more like the seasoned grand champion team I witnessed that won the state competition so long ago.

As I made this comparison it got me thinking. I thought about the team of horses pulling together in perfect unison and their handler talking so softly. I could not get the memory out of my head, how they worked so well together knowing each other’s thoughts, moves, even intentions. The parallel was too close to home to be missed. My Mom, his partner, best friend, consultant, right hand and helpmate, I realized that he had lived his life with all the ups and downs as a team evenly yoked with her. That she was an intricate part of his success, no their success. She has always been there step for step in every situation in every success and setback. They move in perfect unison each pulling their weight, responding to the constant gentle commands of their master.

At least that’s how I see it. My parents are work horses!

 I love my dad and mom.