Happy Birthday, Dad!!!

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like you to meet my Dad, Jeffrey Maurice Billen. He was born in San Francisco (I think?) in 1954 (I'm pretty sure) on October 5th (if I'm not right about that one then I'm the worst son ever). The woman he is dancing with in this photo is my Mom, Carol, to whom he has been married for just over 30 years. Together they've raised five children and are now grandparents to five grandchildren. My Dad's been working for Boeing (formerly McDonnell Douglas) for over twenty years (I think) and our family has been blessed with the opportunity to live in the same Stake in Huntington Beach for at least the last 23 years.

Dad, I hope you're having a Happy Birthday. Here are some reasons why I love and appreciate my Dad and why I'm sorry I can't be with him on his birthday.

• During the Summer, every Saturday our whole family would go to the beach and swim and build sand castles, and a lot of times we'd bring a little picnic for lunch. Sometimes we did our chores first, sometimes we didn't. But it seemed like we'd go every Saturday. After spending a few hours at the beach, it would be time to go home. Our Dad would make sure we'd rubbed our legs and feet raw with a towel trying to get all the sand off before we got back in our big, black Dodge prospector van. Then, on the way home we'd stop by Ralphs (a grocery store) and get a scoop of ice cream and my Dad would always make sure the person scooping us the ice cream would give us as much as possible. This is one of those little things that still meant a lot.
  
• I remember my Dad working overtime as often as possible, especially during the Holidays. It never occurred to me until within the past few years that I never saw my Dad buying things for himself (except at Christmas, he actually would buy himself something and wrap it up and put a tag on in saying that it was from my mom). He always made sure we got what we wanted at Christmas. Not only that, but during the summers, and sometimes even during the school year, our family would go on the best vacations. Yellowstone, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, St. Louis/Nauvoo, Klamath Falls/Crater Lake, Grand Canyon, Mexico, New York/Washington D.C., and Hawaii. The best part of all that is that the the last two vacations I referrenced we the only ones we didn't spend driving the whole way there and back. And by "we" I mean my Dad's the one that always drove the whole time while the rest of us kids were probably screaming and yelling in the back, fighting about sitting on each other's part of the seat or telling on each other for taking more candy than our Mom said we could take or asking if we could stop and go to the bathroom every 30 minutes. My Dad has always worked hard and has put up with a lot so that our family could have good, lasting memories.
  
• When we were little (like, between 5-12 years old or something), at least once a month my Dad would ask each of us kids if we could have a one-on-one "talk". I was always kind of nervous for our "talks", but also excited for them. We'd say a prayer and my Dad would ask us questions about our lives - about school, sports, church, and our friends - and he'd take notes on one of those yellow pads of paper in his CAPS LOCK handwriting. I'd be interested to know where those notes are now, but all the same, I love that my Dad not only put time aside to talk to his children, but that he made the effort to write down what we talked about.
• While I was on my mission in Nashville, TN, I got a hand-written letter from my Dad once a week. While he could have emailed me just like my Mom and other family members did, he explained at one point how when something is hand-written it means more. I agree. It feels like a part of that person is included within the words that are written. At the end of every letter my Dad would write "Keep Smiling". This always meant so much to me because it was a reminder that just by smiling everywhere you go you are serving others. It also made me feel like my smile in particular was something I could share to bless others.
  
• My Dad is great at saving money. Every Sunday, he'll take the coupon section out of the Sunday Paper and sit and cut coupons for hours. I remember this from since I was young and we'd be watching Sunday evening sitcoms or movies we'd picked out to watch together while our Dad sat on the floor with his legs crossed cutting coupons. Every once and a while he'd raise his head and ask "Hey (name), do you like (like a brand of fruit snack or type of cookie to include in our school lunches)?" while holding up the page that it was being advertised. The coupons that he'd spend hours cutting out all went into this accordion-style fold-out carrying envelope thing that he used to use and might still have today. Then, the next Saturday, he'd go through all the sales going on at 4 or 5 different grocery stores and mark everything he needed or wanted to get and go out and spend the next 2 or 3 hours visiting those stores. When he'd arrive home, it was the responsibility of whoever was home to run out and greet him at the van and begin hauling the $300 worth of groceries that he'd only spent about $120 after all the sales and coupons back into the house where we set it all on the kitchen table. Now that it's just he and my Mom at home, it's not so extensive, but that doesn't stop him from cutting coupons.

There are many other things I could write about why I appreciate my Dad, like how he always encouraged us kids to do our best or how well he's always treated the family pets or how great he is at fixing things around the house or how much fun he is, especially with kids, or how he always came to my soccer games or how he never let us drink caffeinated soda, but I want to end by saying I appreciate his dedication to our Family and to God. I can't necessarily say a whole lot for myself, but what I can say I owe in a lot of ways to my Dad. His beliefs in Our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and in the Restoration of the Gospel have always meant a lot to him and he's done a lot to make sure each of his children could share those beliefs. I love my Dad and I hope that today, the date of his birth, he knows how grateful we are that he was born.

Dad, I wish I could be there to give you a big hug and tell you that I love you.