My parents, Kimball and Janet Weaver were born one day a part - April 4th and 5th 1941. Dad is one day older than mom. They were six months old when Pearl Harbor was bombed. They have lived through wars, recessions, social ills of all sorts, job changes, and 7 teenagers- congrats on that one! Dad was born in Helper, Utah To Max Dickson Weaver and Ruth Mable (Stoddard Kimball). Max was teaching art at Helper High. Dad barely weighed 4 pounds. Mom was born on her grandmother's kitchen table in Parowan, Utah to Lucile ( Evans) and Ora Cleve Hofheins. Mom weighed nearly 10 pounds. They both are the oldest of six children.
Mom and dad first met at CSU before dad served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints in Australia. They became reacquainted at BYU following dad's mission.
Dad proposed to mom while his grandmother Kimball was in the back seat. It went something like "you want to put me through graduate school?" A real romantic. He said it was mom's "Idaho kisses" and brown eyes that got to him.
Their seven children graduated from SUU, married in the temple, and now have children of their own. They raised us on 2nd East- our years on 2nd East taught us much . Their examples taught us more. We were rarely lectured or preached to- their examples were our sermons. Dad always loved a good meeting. Mom preferred to be home with her family caring and providing for their needs. Dad saw to the widows in the ward and the lonely in the neighborhood. He never bragged about it- never talked about it. Mom mothered "everyone" she could. "Aunt Janet" was a term used by more than just her nieces and nephews.
They continue to live lives of faith, frugality, and family. They figured it out pretty young- they knew what mattered most. It wasn't about the size of your house, the car you drove, or the friends with whom you associated. It's about being steady, paying your debts, keeping your word, and putting in a hard day's work. It's about kindness. Kindness to each other, to your children, to your neighbors.
Dad stopped at every "monument marker" on road trips growing up. Mom read us stories along the way. We packed a jug of water and Ritz crackers for snacks. We visited family members for vacations, we listened to their stories, and we made memories. I had my first Lasagna at Aunt Nancy and Uncles Kurt's In California, enjoyed pop corn and Kool Aid in Great Falls, Montana at Aunt Katherine and Uncle Dean's, and I ate my first open faced grilled cheese sandwich at Uncle Wynn and Aunt Vickie's in Lehi, Utah- Yummy!On weekends, we helped at Grandpa's farm in Beaver, and on Memorial Day, we visited family graves in Parowan and had ice cream at the "Pit stop."
Mom and dad attended every athletic event, music concert, school play,and award presentation that each of we seven children were in and have continued to do so with as many of their 35 grand kids as possible.
Dad worked as a social worker for the state of Utah with the severely mentally disabled for most of my life as well as held down 2 to 3 part time jobs. Today, he continues part time employment as a hospice social work provider. Mom stayed home with us until I entered the 4th grade and then she went back to teaching at Cedar High School.
Presently, they work at the temple two shifts a week. Dad seems to find his way back there on his "days off" and buries himself in family history work when he is home. Mom enjoys reading and quilting in her free time and checking in on we kids.
I am forever grateful I have my mom's brown eyes and my dad's quirkiness- yep, I embrace it!
It's funny how time passes and refines you and pretty soon you are nearly 46 and you realize your parents knew what they were talking about after all. I love you mom and dad- you are my heroes, my mentors- I want to be just like you when I grow up- "You done GOOD!" Happy Birthday!
Next year we will celebrate big for the BIG 80!
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