My Father's Daughter

On Thursday a friend invited me to go to Lake Powell. Completely unlike myself I took off with them on Friday and went. There were some things about the trip I really wish I could have changed, but there were some things that I couldn't get enough of. I couldn't get enough of the silence and the stars that I got to sleep under (when I found out a tent was broken and someone had to sleep under the stars, there was no getting me into a tent). I couldn't get enough of the red rocks or the cold water, or the sunsets, or the nostalgia. The whole time I was there I thought about people who I wished were with me. I missed my dad the most. He loves that lake. I could replay the times he took me, my mom and my brothers all over that lake and told me cool things about the landscape and boats and everything else.

I took a trip on a waverunner to the Glen Canyon Dam because he took us there in the boat and he thought it was so neat. As a child I wasn't impressed by much but I'm impressed now, and I love that he shared with me the things he thought were great. I wished I was camping with him and chatting under the stars in the dark with him. I thought about you all weekend. Then this morning in a sacrament meeting in Page, a little boy gave a talk and said he loved his dad because he showed him how to use the Priesthood and how to be a good man. I love that my brothers know how to be men. And until this weekend, I didn't realize what a precious commodity good men are.