Find yourself a wife that is kind, caring, and good.
Find someone you know will be a good mother not by any one action or by any words but by their being; who they are.
Find someone who will love, uplift, and support you through everything you want to accomplish.
Here’s an important one: find someone that will love you conditionally. The world says to find someone that loves you unconditionally. That’s too easy. Where is the growth and progression in being loved unconditionally? Find someone who wants you to improve and be better as much as you yourself want to improve and be better.
Find someone who also wants to be better.
When two people independently want to be stronger and better, they collectively become stronger and better.
As important as someone who loves you conditionally, find someone who loves the Lord unconditionally. Find someone who has a testimony of what is important in this life. While the world moves and shakes, find someone with a foundation. So that if ever your foundation becomes weak, you have someone whose foundation is strong.
Keep your foundation strong for that person as well, so that they can rely on you when their foundation needs shoring up.
Find someone who wants God to be a part of your life, family, and home. If God is in your home, your home can never fail.
Find someone with faith. Find someone with devotion. Find someone you can trust.
If you’re a parent and ever get frustrated with your kids (every parent), especially if they are younger kids, you need to check out the Disney short called “Float.”
It’s only 6 minutes long and can be watched on Disney+ or HERE.
I have to remind myself often that Ivy is constantly experimenting. Everything she does is an attempt to understand the world around her. She’s never really trying to make a mess or destroy things. She’s only trying to see how that food that’s thrown will splatter and land.
This Disney short reminds us that all children are unique and special. No matter how challenging our children are, we must remember they’re the greatest gift in the world. Every so often I have to pause and watch Ivy and think how amazing it is she is what she is. She was nothing 3 years ago. Today she is a living, breathing, experimenting, ever challenging, extraordinary person.
I have to constantly temper what I think I want from Ivy.
I want her to be confident, but I like it when she is quiet and reverent in public, especially at church.
I want her to be independent but one day I’ll desperately miss her wanting to hold my hand.
I want her to want my attention. Unless I’m busy.
I want her to laugh and have fun and show joy. Unless it’s too loud.
I want her to ask for help when she needs it, but I want her to do things she is capable of without me. At the same time, like the hand holding, one day I’ll desperately miss when my babe needed my help.
All these contradictions we go through as parents.
This is a short post just to be a reminder to all parents that your children are special. What makes them difficult and challenging is what makes them special. We aren’t meant to change our children. I actually think they’re meant to change us.
In the Spring of 2009 Uncle Mike helped fund a trip for my entire family to go to a Club Med to celebrate my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. I was an extremely moody teenager at the time. It was still a memorable experience. That’s the kind of trip you never forget. Participating in trapeze acts, golfing, boogie boarding at the beach, paddle boats, volleyball, skate parks; that was a fun trip. I wonder if that was the last time the whole Leach family was together. It had to have been. Laura moved on in May of 2018. My grandparents made it to 63 anniversaries. Grandma moved on May of this year.
When my brother Dresdan received the Melchizedek priesthood, my family went to St. George for the ordination. We went to my brother’s church that day. I remember my Grandpa Frank bearing his testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Grandpa talked about the pain involved in burying a child when Laura died. He’s since had to bury his best friend/wife and now his oldest son. My heart goes out to Grandpa.
Grandpa talked about the pain of saying goodbye, but in his testimony, he pointed out the most important thing. He emphatically testified that day that he would see Laura again. I know that my grandpa knows he will also see Grandma and Mike again.
When I talked to my mom hours after Mike passed, she said Sharon was doing surprisingly well. She was strong. Not that my mom needed any reminding, but I mentioned how important our faith is in these moments. When you know you’ll see someone again it becomes a painful, but endurable goodbye. My Aunt Sharon’s strength comes from her faith. I know my cousins will be ok too.
Mike was a man of deep faith. It warms my heart to think of him with Grandma and Laura again. It saddens my heart to think that my cousins and aunt will have to go so long without him. I hope they remember, it’s a couple more decades, and then eternity.
61 is a young age to move on. So is 71 and 81 and 91 and 101. Goodbye is goodbye, no matter how old you are. It occurred to me that if I move on at 61, Sage won’t yet be 30. I can’t imagine not seeing Sage reach 30. Mike didn’t get a chance to see his two youngest children reach 30. My heart aches for them.
Mike is my mom’s oldest brother. I say “is” because, if you read my blog, you know I know he’s not really gone. He’s still her oldest brother. He’ll forever be her oldest brother. My mom has said in the past that I remind her of Mike. Few see the resemblance. I think my mom’s view comes from him being her oldest brother, and I am the oldest of my siblings. I like to think I’m like him. He was able to show his brilliance to so many people through football. Mike Leach will go down in history as one of the most innovative college football minds of all time, and most interesting. His impact on this world goes far, far beyond football. The most important thing he ever did was be a husband and a father. I think he would agree. I look forward to asking him one day.
Last year I “interviewed” Uncle Mike. I read a lot of books that say to talk to the successful people around you. Pick their brain. My Uncle is one of the most successful people in the history of his profession. What a person to interview. Mike was a busy man. He spent over an hour on the phone with me, answering my questions.
I want to share something Mike said to me that night that I think encapsulate the way he lived his life.
I asked Mike what’s something he believes that others think is crazy. His response was, “People put limits on themselves. Perceive where you’re going, value the journey.”
I also asked Mike the question we all wondered: How and why did you get a law degree and then end up coaching football? He said that since he was very young, he enjoyed coaching. He got his law degree and then he realized, if he didn’t try coaching right then he might never do it. He didn’t want to give coaching a try when he was old and retired from law. He didn’t want to look back and wonder what it would have been like to coach. Thank goodness for the world that Mike Leach gave coaching a try first. The world would have missed out on some classic and memorable Mike Leach moments.
“Perceive where you’re going, value the journey.” I think Mike valued the journey. I think he will value his new journey. I can picture him, so joyful, reuniting with loved ones now. I can also feel the pain in his heart for the time he will go missing his wife, children, and grandchildren.
Life is short. We say that to remind ourselves to live it to the fullest. It can also be said to remind ourselves that goodbyes here are always short in the grand scheme. He’ll be united with his family again. He knows that, his family knows that, Grandpa knows that. Death is made bearable in its short-lived victory. Ultimately, death has been defeated already. Its victory is a farce, though the pain we feel is real.
For a guy who is often described as the most quotable person in football, there’s no more fitting way to end this than with a legitimate Mike Leach quote. When asked how the Mike wanted to be remembered and how the Mike Leach obituary should be written, Mike responded, “well that’s their problem, they’re the one writing the obituary, I mean, what do I care? I’m dead.”
I listened to a self-love, guided meditation this morning. I was guided to picture myself as a young boy. The prompt was to say comforting words to that young boy. May I be happy. May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I live with ease. Each of these was followed with the guidance to remember a time I felt those things. “Remember a time you felt safe.”
As I pictured that young boy in my mind, using old pictures and old family home videos to conjure up what I looked like, a deep emotion came over me. I started to cry.
As I picture that young boy, and as I picture myself today, I see my father, my dad. What pressures did he feel raising 6 kids, working, going to school, and trying to keep it all together?
I worry. I fear. I doubt. I pray daily that I can have patience and comfort in God’s plan. I am so blessed. Being blessed doesn’t always make this life easy. This life is challenging. It’s meant to be.
I don’t think we talk often enough about the pressures of fatherhood. There are now two lives that completely depend on me for everything: Food, water, home, toys. (Of course, Beth is here too and I in no way mean to take away from motherhood).
I have a family that relies on me to provide. There is a level of pressure that comes along with this that isn’t discussed often enough.
I love this video:
It perfectly captures fatherhood.
I feel happy, safe, healthy, and loved because of what a Father (God) has always provided for me, and for much of my life a father has provided for me.
I know we should be able to talk about it, the pressures, but dads don’t. We walk around with a burden and a pressure. It sometimes feels like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. Little lives depend on us. We work, trying to provide a life for our children. We come home and we continue to work. We are horses, we are friends, we are disciplinarians, we are a lot.
If you have a father in your life that seems like he has it all together, if you see a father around you that seems stressed, if you interact with a father that seems angry, if you have a father in your life that seems frustrated, if you see a father that seems like he’s carrying a heavy burden that he can’t share with anyone: he probably is. Hug that man. Fathers need more hugs. Not hugs of pity but hugs of sympathy, hugs of appreciation, hugs of understanding. Understanding that this world is stressful. This life is hard. This life can be scary. And sometimes, as a father, you feel you’re the one battling back those realizations and experiences for your kids for as many moments as you possibly can. That is a difficult task. Because one day your children will learn what you have learned. That life can be hard and scary. You protect them from it as long as you can, but one day they will know.
As a father, knowing that day will one day come for your little, precious gifts can pull your heart, stretch it in a nearly painful way. And you can realize how your (Heavenly) Father feels, watching us grow in sometimes painful ways.
I know that fatherhood is important. I know that it’s hard. I know that it’s rewarding.
I know I have a Father that allows me these experiences so I can grow. I know I have a father here that did so much for me while I grew to my own realization that life is hard. I was sheltered for so long. And I owe that to loving parents here, and there.
I don’t think anything makes me feel closer to God than staring into the eyes of my babies. I’ve written about it before HERE. I don’t remember this specifically with Ivy, though I’m sure it happened. But with Sage I’ve stared into her eyes and it’s the most outstanding, humbling feeling.
What did I do to deserve this gift?
As I hold Sage and she begins to drift off into sleep, while comfortably in my arms, I wonder what I did to deserve so much trust. She is so comfortable in my arms, so content, so peaceful, so trusting. Why does she trust me? What did I do to earn that trust?
Nothing.
Or maybe everything.
I don’t know how Sage, Ivy, and I interacted before coming here. Before coming to earth were we best friends, running around, shooting hoops, reading books, taking walks? Maybe I did earn that trust.
What did I do to earn the trust of God, to send His daughters to me?
As I stare into Sage’s eyes, I see the eyes of God.
She is His daughter. She is of His lineage. She is a princess, not of me, but of Him. And as I stare into her eyes, I think that’s the overwhelming, outstanding, humbling feeling I get, that I described above. It’s looking into the eyes of God.
No Coincidences 