I'd like to think I'm the mess you'd wear with pride

Thales




Its been 15 years, since I've seen his face, felt his touch, smelt his smell.  I cant believe it, 15 years.  I have found that with the years I begin to remember less the day and I start to remember more the memories.  Today I felt horrible because I forgot almost till the last light of day that it was THE day...but then I realized, I think that is what he wants for me, for all of us.  To not remember the event of April 18, 1998 but all the events that occured before it.  So here are my memories of a man who I knew for such a short time but will love for the rest of my life.

I remember taco trucks and spanish, he always wanted us to learn and I am so grateful to the Lord for giving all of us a chance to do so by serving spanish speaking missions.  He loved the hispanic people and culture.

I remember the music!  TexMex music, Mana, Tom Petty, The Doors, The Cars, The Eagles, ACDC, he loved it all!

I remember road trips to mexico, I remember road trips all around the country, in the 9 seater van, with the two front rows out so we could play and the mini potty so we didn't have to stop.  I remember stopping at the historical spots on the side of the roads.  I remember him filming always, I am so grateful for those videos.

I remember him loving John Steinbeck's books and waning us to be able to have adventures in our lives, I think I need to embrace that, to have more of them.  I remember him being a cop, a trucker, and an incredible teacher.  I remember going to school with him and seeing how much those students loved him.

I remember him taking me to my school and staying for an hour to chat it up with Mrs. Hoffman.  I remember him picking me and David up from school, well, stopping the bus in the middle of the route (he and the bus driver were good friends, he was friends with everyone) so we could be on time to watch the start of Wishbone and eat our popcorn shrimp with ketchup.

I remember him building a pitching mound just so Matty and I could practice pitching to him...everyday.

I remember him building a track for the motorcycles.  I remember him teaching me how to ride and taking me on rides on the canal.  I remember him doing wheelies with me on the bike...terrifying yet i never felt scared with him.

I remember going to the army surplus store with him, picking out army clothes, dog tags, and
machetes with our names engraved on them.

I remember working with him in the yard, fixing sprinklers, tearing out the wild rose bushes in the front yard, fixing water pipes.

I remember him putting up the slider(a steel rope from one oak tree to another in our yard) and the army net so we could play.  I remember him digging a hole for the built in trampoline.

I remember chest punches, getting in his fort only so he could fart on us, watching Selena for family home evening, I remember saturday mornings building forts and making newspaper bats and fighting each other.

I remember him loving my mom, not letting us sit next to her on sunday cause he wanted to.  I remember him holding her always.

Dad loved to play!  He worked hard and played hard.    I am grateful to him because he taught me how to do just that, to work and to play, he taught me what was of most importance, family!  That relationship is irreplaceable.  He did all he could to make sure his family was taken care of, had the best and felt loved.  I am grateful to my dad, Thales.  I am grateful to my mother, for her strength and love, she is the sweetest, meekest, and yet strongest woman I have ever met.  I am grateful to my siblings, for taking care of me, for loving me, for allowing me to be apart of them.  And I am grateful to God, for allowing us to learn from our struggles and allowing us to grow stronger and be more refined and polished.  FOr helping us stay strong and united as a family.
 
Like my mom always says, "Its not the trials we face that make us who we are but the way with which we face them".