My Dad- Drew Hyer

Tonight’s creative writing I’m dedicating to my dad, Drew Lynn Hyer. I don’t think I have written down any stories about my dad and that’s a shame, he’s a great guy. This year he and my mother are missionaries in New Zealand. I’ve slacked in the gift giving department so I hope to make up for that. The thing is that I don’t think they’ll judge me and I know they’ll still love me, even if I don’t do anything but call on the special days. I always mean to do more, I always want to do more but I never make it a priority to make it happen. Well not today! I have laundry to fold and dishes to do and packing to be done before our trip to Denver in a couple of days, but this MUST be done first. So about my dad....

Dad, I hope you enjoy these stories. I’m not sure what I’m going to write about just yet but I’m a little worried that you’ll judge my memories, like “That’s what she remembers?” Or “my favorite memory is... doesn’t she remember that?” Honestly There are a LOT of memories I don’t/can’t remember. But I do know that weather I can recall them or not those experiences formed me into the women- mom, wife, friend, spouse, citizen I am today. So they were all totally worth it. 

When I was a kid my dad would go on morning walks. It was more like jogging for me because my dad is tall, has a large stride and was speed walking. But I loved the challenge of keeping up. We would take different routs through our country neighborhood. I’m not the kind of person that like routine, a new route made this not just a walk for exercise but an exploratory adventure. I enjoyed the exercise too. In my mind I would tell myself to go faster, focusing my brain and will on the speed of my two little sticks. I could feel the burn and it was painfully good, it meant I was in “the zone”. This was my only training in speed walking but it has proved so valuable in my life. 

In college when you’re in transition between classes so is everyone else. The paths from one building to another are swarmed with students and I could speed past all of them. Again it was a challange I enjoyed. I imagined it like a game, can I pass that person up there before they reach that tree- GO! Walking fast was also useful when I was on a mission in Argentina. I walked everywhere and the way I saw it, the faster I walked the more places I could go. Some of my companions had to become quick learners in the skill. Walking slower than a brisk pace hurt. So much so that sometimes I would walk ahead then stop and wait for them to catch up because I would rather stop along the way then mosey. 

My dad would sometimes have to go away for a night on a trip to deliver or pick up product for his agriculture business. “The 3 little kids” Trevor, Brent and I would fight and beg to go with him on a special one on one. Well one time I remember winning the lottery. I got to go! We drove down to Rancho Cucamonga and stayed at a hotel. I LOVE hotels! The really cool part too was looking out the window and seeing the trailer for a race car driver that was staying in the area too. 

Sometimes, ok many times, Dad would get home for a long day on his feet, sit in his recliner, lay back and “the 3 little kids” and Davido would be summoned to take off his shoes that were tightly laced up AND TAKE OFF HIS STICKY SWEATY SOCKS!!! This is probably a gross story but it’s one we all laugh about. 

My dad is a pretty peaceful guy. He goes with the flow and just wants to enjoy life. He loves food, as do I, and would grill and cook often. His specialties are grilled steak lathered in mustard, mashed potatoes, Mush (oatmeal) with raisins, scrambled eggs and eggs-aronious eggs with any meat and vegetable we had on hand. 

Two of my favorite things with my dad though are washing and drying dishes and Enya. To this day I LOVE washing and drying dishes with someone. It’s great bonding time and makes the work so much lighter and faster. I can still imagine him with his soapy basin washing faster than I could dry. My towel would be soaking wet too because he would go so fast the pot would still be dripping off excess water as he handed it to me. And Enya... My parents had a large stereo system in their bedroom. Every evening my dad would listen to Enya and since my room shared a wall with theirs I would fall asleep listening to it. That music becase apart of me. It can open me and heal me emotionally. It can provoke me to sing and dance along even if there are no words. I marvel at the greatnesses of that music. My dad once told me, “You know that she can’t put on a concert, she plays all of the instruments herself!” Wow! I’m even more impressed but sad that a concert isn’t even an option. Well YEARS later I found out that she does put on concerts in Europe and it’s been my hope that one day dad and I can go to one together. It’s an incredible thing to see one of your own children embrace something so special to you. Paisley also loves Enya and will ask Alexa to play it. Sometimes when I’m listening to it she’ll come out saying, “Oo! I love this song!” 

The parent-child relationship is a curious thing. The child has their own experience and memories which the parent has no control over. That is to say, the parent can’t control what the child will remember and how the child will feel about the way the parent raised them. Then as the child grows they learn things they never knew, gaps in their child understanding begin to fill. And then one day the child becomes a parent themselves and now everything they experienced and learned growing up becomes even more meaningful and that child turns back towards their parents in need of their support and wisdom. I have yet to experience all of the phases the parent goes through as I’m in the middle of it now but I imagine it’s just as curious. For the parent will see their child parent and the parent will take on a new sacred role of Grand-parent. The impact of a grandparent is far reaching. I have carried the memories and changes my grandparents have made in my life. I and many others morn the loss of a grandparent because it means that their greatness can no longer be personally enjoyed by the world around them. Grandparents are SO important in the family community. Their contribution to the youth keeps the community together in a stronger bond. 

I experienced the complex beauty of this a few years ago when my dad flew to Houston and drove the long drive with Paisley, Adeline and I to Utah in our little white diesel Chevy Cruse. It got amazing MPG (about 50MGP). It was small and my dad looked like a giant in it but we had the best trip! It seemed to fly by! My dad told me about his parents, his grandparents, his childhood, his mission, meeting my mom, the start of their marriage, the various jobs he held and choices he made. It was a diary of his life, and he told me all of it and I soaked it in! I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to record him speaking but it’s one of my biggest regrets in life. He said he asked me if I wanted to record it and I dismissed his suggestion, I must of misunderstood what he was asking because the idea to record him never entered my mind and I’m sick about it. I hope and pray that one day soon we will get the chance again. My children need that history,  I need that history. Another beautiful thing from that trip was seeing my own children grow a love for their Papa Drew.

I love you dad! Happy Father’s Day! You’re a wonderful father!