4 May 2021 – Today is my dad’s 72nd Birthday. It’s crazy to think about it because I distinctly remember when he turned 40, and that feels like yesterday. My siblings will tell you that I have always been dad’s favorite. I don’t think that is necessarily true. First, as a parent, I don’t have a favorite child even if I try to make it one or the other. Second, we all like some people more than others once in a while. I think parent-child relationships are just like any relationship; it changes depending on the situation. What is going on in life, what the activity is, where you are and what’s going on inside you determine the current favorite. When I want to be loud or a little odd, Meg is my favorite because she will play along and not judge me. But Shelby and I have this tendency to feel things the same way, so she’s my favorite when I need that. I could go on, but you get the point. So, I am not convinced Dad has a favorite.

As different as my siblings and I are, we all have many of my father’s traits. None of us have the ability just to sit and relax. We tend always to be doing something. Dad tends to drive Mom crazy because he can’t just sit still, but she also enjoys it because he can do things for her since he’s already up. We are all very logical, organized thinkers as well. My dad and my sister especially enjoy lists and having a plan. I look most like my dad but my brother got dad’s metabolism. We have all picked up dad traits here and there.

Many of my childhood memories are of me “helping” Dad with something. My earliest memory was helping him paint the white picket fence he had put up in our backyard when I was 4 or 5. I also remember helping him work on cars by holding flashlights, passing tools and pressing on the brakes. These times ended up being really important as an adult. I was a great crew member at the racetrack, and I can figure out what is wrong with our own cars and sometimes even fix them. When I was in the 4th grade, we had a full-size van that was unfinished on the inside. Dad built a table and benches for the back that became a bed, and he finished the inside with paneling, cushions and curtains. I remember many evenings being out there helping him. I think I have the confidence to try to fix things or make things because of all these times Dad let me help him.

I did inherit a couple of traits from Dad that might have been better left with him. Dad and I are not great about expressing our feelings. We tend to keep them to ourselves and only express them when we reach our breaking point. This means that we usually only express anger and hurt because love is too difficult. And we only show anger and hurt after it has festered for too long. Dad has always been a quiet, calm guy until he wasn’t. When he got mad, he had a terrifying dad voice, and you were in big trouble. I carried that same thing into my life. I was fine until I wasn’t, and then I was scary mean. Dad has changed a lot over the years; he is much more open with his feelings, good and bad. He can even argue with my brother without losing his cool. I still haven’t learned to express my feelings all that well, maybe when I am his age.

Another thing I inherited from my dad that I wish I had not is my inability to ask for help or even admit that I need it. We all need help sometimes and definitely more than we ask for it. Dad still has a hard time asking for help or even allowing someone to help when they want to. I am very guilty of this – to the point that when the roof on my shed blew off a couple of years ago, I figured out how to lift it and put it back on without any help. I almost killed myself, but at least I didn’t ask for help. Dad needs to start letting us help him, and he even needs to ask for help. He may still be able to do everything he always has, but he is 72, and he should not have to.

Speaking of still being able to do things, Dad amazes me. He may be 72, but he definitely does not seem it. Except for getting out of the chair slowly due to knees that stood on concrete on flight lines and warehouses for too many years, he still gets around and does everything he needs to, including going up and down the stairs numerous times during the day when he can’t sit still. I hope I am still able to do everything I want when I am his age. This is the only thing that gives me the motivation to exercise – the ability to keep up with myself.

Dad has also become everybody’s caregiver and helper. When mom had to stop driving about twenty years ago, Dad became her chauffeur. He even drives her to the craft store and the fabric store! He stays in the car, but he takes her. He doesn’t complain too much anymore. Dad always gets her where she needs to be and carts all of her things too. He helps her with Warm Hearts, Warm Babies and transports things back and forth to the baby house and even makes long-distance deliveries. Dad helped take care of my mother’s mom and brother over the last few years when they had health issues and couldn’t drive or take care of certain things themselves. He often has to grit his teeth and put on a happy face, but he handles it. With my siblings and me across the country, Dad has to take care of most things himself, and he does most of it with grace.

As a teenager, my dad worked on race cars with and for his brother, but he didn’t race them himself. When my dad was 61, he bought his own race car, a modified coupe. He and my mom became members of the Colorado Auto Racing Club (CARC), the oldest auto racing club in Colorado. This was the same club he enjoyed watching as a kid. Dad raced his car for few years, even winning a heat race in 2011. He eventually quit racing and decided to be just an owner and, after some success, eventually retired from that. He and my mom are still involved with CARC. It was absolutely amazing to watch him achieve a childhood dream.

My dad has been known my many names over the years.

• Theron – his birth name and what most people call him
• Thurman – endearing name from my mom’s cousin Beth
• TJ – his nickname given to him in the military
• Sgt Bredeson – his name most of my childhood
• Grumpy – endearing name from my niece Eleanor
• Frosty – his racing name

He’s not perfect, but he perfect enough. He loves my mom with all he has to give, and it is epic. He has such pride in his children and grandchildren, and he loves us all so much. He even tells us! We are so lucky to have him in our lives, and I am lucky to call him Dad. My very own Jedi Master who taught me everything and made sure I had everything I needed, May the Fourth Be With You! Happy 72nd Birthday, Dad. I love you, Reese 💚 💚 💚