DAD

I have seen many people remembering my dad. I have seen his obituary posted several times. I too want to remember my dad, but in a different way. My brother, Jeff, had the hard task of putting Dad's life sketch together for the funeral. We all emailed him and he put it together. I feel that it is more my dad then the obituary from the paper. While it doesn't entail everything my dad did and was, here it is.

Dads Life Sketch

John Michael Reading quietly passed away in his sleep on December 5^th 2012 at the age of 62. The doctors say it was a mild heart attack, but it could have been from a broken heart. You see dad was born in Chadron Nebraska and this makes him a Cornhusker football fan. His team had just tasted one of their worst losses in team history on December 1^st. It was a difficult thing to watch.

As I said dad was born in Chadron Nebraska on April 20^th 1950. He is the son of John William and Betty Jean Feldhausen Reading. He is the oldest of three kids.

His mom tells a story of a very determined kid on the first day of kindergarten. He knew the way home and didn’t want anybody to meet him. His mom and dad knew that he knew the way home so they said “ok”. Well after school he didn’t come home. His parents and the teachers went out looking for him. After awhile dad came strolling in. He had stopped to play at the park and couldn’t understand why they were looking for him, as he knew the way home.

Being the oldest brother, it was dad’s job to torment his younger brother and sister. His sister Joanne looked up to and always wanted to tag along with him. They would play baseball with dad’s friends in the backyard. Dad would make his sister go out in the alley behind the big lilac bushes and retrieve balls from there. When she got married dad was the one to walk her down the aisle. His comment was, “I have wanted to give her away many times and now I really get to do it.”

Dad’s brother Steve recalls an incident when he was about four. This means dad would have been about seventeen. My dad and his friend walked around the garage and saw my uncle playing in the snow. My uncle was excited to see his big brother and started waving at him. Dad picked up a snowball and hit him right in the face. My uncle started crying and my dad and his friend took off. Their mom came out to see what was going on. Needless to say my dad was in a lot of trouble when his dad got home. To this day dad says this story didn’t happen.

Dad grew up and attended school in Chadron. He also went to college in his hometown at Chadron State College. During the summer he would go to Jackson Hole Wyoming to work. That is where he met a young farm girl from Teton Valley Idaho. Mom was working at a store in Jackson and she saw this handsome guy walk down the street and into the store where she worked. Come to find out he also had a job at the same store. This started a love story that has lasted 40 years. I think mom fell for his cowboy boots and his mustache.

After dad graduated from college, he and mom were married on July 7, 1973 in Rexburg Idaho. Dad tried to take a farm girl from the mountains of Idaho back to the rolling hills of the Nebraska panhandle. That lasted about two years. Then, because he loved mom more than himself, he moved her back to the mountains of Idaho and closer to her family.

They moved to Pocatello for a short time and then eventually settled in Blackfoot where dad helped raise five kids. Their marriage was later solemnized in the Salt Lake Temple. It was during these growing up years that so many memories were made and lessons learned. We all have fond memories of dad as we were growing up and I would like to share a few.

If you can imagine raising 5 kids in a house with three and a half bedrooms and one bath there was always something going on in the house. Someone was usually getting a cold shower, if they could get in the bathroom at all.

Dad taught us that a house is a structure with four walls and roof. It is meant to protect us from the elements. He also said, “A car is a mode of transportation to get you from point A to point B.” These things don’t have to be the biggest or the best. They just need to serve their purpose.

Dad was not a wealthy or worldly man. He didn’t have a lot, but what he had he was willing to give.

Dad worked hard to provide for his family. He didn’t always enjoy his work, but he unselfishly did it to provide for his wife and kids. I remember many times dad coming home from work in the summertime after working the graveyard shift and us kids were being too noisy for him to sleep. I know it bothered him, but he was very patient with us.

His hard work ethic was instilled in each one of his kids. He saw to it that most of us kids had a paper route at an early age. These experiences taught us responsibility and how to work for what we wanted. It also taught us the value of a dollar.

In the summer, dad would take us to Island Park to cut firewood. He would sneak in a little fishing for us as well. Dad would cut the trees. We would mark the logs. Then dad would cut them up and we would all load the truck. On the way home we always stopped in Ashton for ice-cream. After we got home we had to stack and split all that wood for the winter. Then all winter long it was our job to haul it inside to heat the house. Back then I couldn’t understand why we did all this work. It would have been much easier to walk over to the thermostat in the hall and turn it up. –But dad had lessons to teach.

Dad loved to garden. I think it was the work aspect, but he also loved the bounty of the harvest. Growing up we had fruit trees and a garden that literally took up half of our backyard. Dad would plan all winter every little detail of his garden. (In fact he already placed his 2013 gurneys seed order and it will be here in April). He would plant enough vegetables to feed our family for most of the year. It was our job to help weed and take care of the bugs. He didn’t use the pesticides back then that he did later. So it was our job to catch these potato bugs and put them in jars. I am not really sure what we did with these jars full of bugs, but I do remember dad telling us he would give us one penny for every bug we caught. I think he still owes some of us a few pennies. This is ironic because at the house now there are jars full of pennies that dad has collected over the years. These are the same jars of pennies that the young grandkids love to get into. I thought dad’s garden would have gotten smaller after all the kids moved away. He didn’t have all of us to help take care of it. Actually the garden has gotten bigger. I realize he didn’t need us to go weed and take care of it, but he did it to teach another lesson.

Dad was a people person. He loved talking to people whether they were at our house or he was over at their house solving the world’s problems.

Dad worked on cars. Not because he liked to but he did it to save money. He didn’t always know how to do it, but he usually tinkered with it until he figured it out. One time after dad had worked all day he drove 2 hours over to Twin Falls to help Clint figure out what was wrong with his car and get it fixed. He then drove 2 hours back to Blackfoot and went to work the next day. That’s who dad is!

Dad liked photography. He liked to go to Yellowstone with Kristy and take lots and lots of beautiful pictures. I think the cameras were an excuse to spend some quality time in an amazing place.

Family was the most important thing to my dad. His joy was seeing our joy. Many times after working all day he would come home and get on his bike and ride with Kim as she ran all over Blackfoot.

Dad loves my mom. He loved to tease her and do little things to get a reaction from her. Often he would use us kids to get a response from her, but he really loves her. As the years went on we saw him grow to love her more and more. He has a great respect for her. Dad taught all of his kids how to love a spouse and do anything for them.

Besides family, dad’s favorite thing is to spend time in this beautiful world that God has created for us. Whether it was hunting, fishing, hiking, camping, or backpacking dad loved it all. His favorite though was backpacking. It was his favorite because it was our favorite.

I think it was when Clint was five that dad took our family on our first backpacking trip. Dad planned an exciting 3 day 2 night trip through the Tetons. Dad had all the meals and all the hiking stuff planned. Dad, mom, Jason, Clint, and I started on the Wyoming side and hiked across and came out the Idaho side. My Uncle Ron had driven our car around to the other side. We had a wonderful time. We got out to the car (the silver bullet as we called it) and when we got there we realized dad had packed enough food for another three days. Dad made sure we did not go hungry. This trip began our yearly tradition of hiking with my dad. Every year dad would plan a backpacking trip. Whether it was to Copper Basin, The Sawtooths, The White Clouds, The Big Horn Crags, The Uintas, or the Wind Rivers it didn’t matter. It was time with dad and fishing. We didn’t all make it every year, but dad did go every year and those of us that could make it were there. In the last few years some of the grandkids have started going. It was a joy for grandpa to pass this tradition onto his grandkids. In fact, this last summer he took at least three backpacking trips getting to spend time with kids and grandkids.

I always thought we went to the backcountry for the quiet and solitude, but with dad he seemed to search out all the other hikers. We would be huffing and puffing down the trail to reach our destination. We would round a corner and see some other hikers coming our way and we knew that we would be at least thirty minutes later into camp. He would have to find out where they were from, where they had been, and where they were going. This would only be the first of many such encounters for the day. We would finally get into camp and get everything all set up to enjoy some peace and solitude. Silly us, dad would see someone camped all the way around the lake, and he would have to go over there and see them. That’s who dad is. The best thing about backpacking with dad was the quality time. There were no distractions from the television or other worldly influences. It was just dad, us, and nature. Each one of us kids has some personal, special, very sacred experiences in the backcountry where dad opened up and shared and taught us something.

I could go on and on sharing the things my dad loved to do and the things he taught us, but that is not what dad would have wanted. He wanted a simple funeral. He wanted to be buried in as he said “just a pine box.” Dad you got your wish! Though I think it may be a little fancier than you wanted. He didn’t want anyone to make a big deal about him. He loved everyone unconditionally and never expected anything in return.

I would like to share some of the memories the grandkids have of their grandpa or as some of them affectionately called him grandpapa:

• Doing puzzles with us
• Snuggling in the recliner with his Nebraska blanket
• Hiking and fishing with us
• Helping me catch my first fish
• Teaching me how to give wet willies
• The loving way you teased us and called us dipsticks
• Turkey hunting in Nebraska
• Always bringing a box of potatoes when you came to visit
• Playing games like Ticket to Ride
• Looking for your bike as you rode home from work
• Watching football together
• Always having tic tacs and saying “it’s ok not to brush your teeth if you are in a hurry and you have some tic tacs”
• Eating at Rupes
• Picking huckleberries
• Floating the Buffalo River
• Hiking in the Wind Rivers and telling me, “it might be hard, but you will see pretty sights.” And telling me, “even if it’s hard just keep going.”

In closing, I want to share a poem that was given to dad on Father’s day many years ago by my sister. It is entitled, “My Father”

My father’s feet will lead me in paths I know are right.

My father’s knees will bend with mine as we say prayers at night.

My father’s lap will hold me when I need a place to rest.

And when I’m sad, I like to lay my head upon his chest.

My father’s hands are big and strong, and they work hard for me.

My father’s arms can lift me up so I may better see.

My father’s lips will speak to me with words of truth each day.

My father’s ears will listen to the things I have to say.

I like to sit so very still and look into his eyes.

I know he understands me, and he is good and wise.

I’m glad I have a father who guides me with his love.

He helps me better understand my Father up above.

Barbara J Porter

This is who dad is and how we will always remember him. Probably the greatest way dad taught us was by his example. As the years went on he became a great man. I know this was the gospel of Jesus Christ that changed his life. He became more meek, mild and humble. He was always looking to do good for others.

Dad’s brother Steve told me the other day that their dad used to say, “You want to be able to look at somebody and say, “He was a good man.” Dad you are a good man. Your life and memory will live on in the gardening, the backpacking trips and the good we show to others. May your children and grandchildren carry on the great legacy that you have given them. We love you and we will miss you, but we will see you again. I know that it is through Jesus Christ and his gospel that we will be able to see my dad again.