my father, the prophet

My Father was a prophet.  That sounds a bit like he has earned his heavenly reward.  But he's kicking around, living his earthly whatever-it-is.  I say he was a prophet not because he is no longer around to be one, but because I just haven't heard him prophecy for a while, and I'm thinking I don't actually know if he is one.

At any rate, I suppose what I mean is that he had a lot of good sense. Probably still has, but since he instilled me with the desire to think for myself, I don't rely on his good sense nearly so much these last 15 or 20 years.

He had the good sense to make sure I took typing in high school.  All these years I thought that was because he could see the direction the world was moving and he knew that typing would be a skill that no one should be without.  However, since I started this blog I am thinking differently about that.

I'm thinking that my Dad knew I was going to have a lot to say, and if I had to hand write it, no one in the entire world would be able to read it except me.  And sometimes even not me.  So, by typing, I am able to maintain some sort of verbal legacy for my children and my children's children, for what its worth.

It’s embarrassing to teach my children cursive, because they start asking questions like, if this is cursive mom, what is that you do?  That sort of printing-writing stuff that no one can read?  When my daughters grocery shop for me, they say things like, "I couldn't read this word, it looks like a capital J followed by a q, and then "r" "e" "w"  so I had to just guess so I got Thompson raisins.  I hope that's okay."

If it’s that bad, I can't usually decipher either.  So its not until I go to make dinner the next day or something and I check my menu list and I don't have the thing I needed.  Oh, that thing on the grocery list that we couldn't read, it was salmon.  I guess we'll have to have beans instead tonight or oatmeal with raisins.  Lots of those.

I really rock with spelling though.  One word I get hung up on every time though is "receive."  Then I'm grateful for spellcheck.  Most of the time I think it is for idiots.  Then I meet some really lovely, humble and holy person who can't spell their way out of a paper bag.

Then I wonder if God will care that I can spell.  Oh, I have a long way to go.