A Tribute to My Dad Gilbert Sandberg by Jonathan Sandberg

Recently during a wonderful visit to our house by my parents, one of my good friends, who grew up without a father in the home, said something to me like this “you do realize how lucky you are to have such a great dad.” It was certainly not the first time I have had someone say that to me, both in and out of the church. Somehow many of my friends feel like they know dad well, whether it be from the advice he has given that I re-quote or his weekly letters that I sometimes share or just from interacting with him. It is true what Grandma Marza Hatch said all those years ago after meeting him, there is something special about him, I believe she particularly referred to his wisdom, but there is more than that. I believe I could write many tributes like this to my dad, each focusing a different set of memories or feelings, because he is a remarkable and wonderful man. I am grateful for the opportunity to get off the merry-go-round of life for a moment, and reflect on Dad and what he has meant to me. I hope these random memories can be uplifting and foster love in all families.

I do not think it was until I became a father and was watching some old family movies of my childhood that I realized how much time dad spent with me. I remember playing catch, shooting baskets, fathers and sons outings, talks, drives, activities of all kinds, playing games, watching sports or movies, going out for ice cream, wrestling with him on his bed (much to mom’s chagrin as we broke a head board), priesthood meetings, and many more activities. One of my favorite quotes about fathers is from President Hunter, who said, “a father protects his children with his time and his presence.” Though as a teenager I often did not fully appreciate how he shared his time and presence with me, I never doubted I was important to him, or that what I did mattered to him. Only now do I realize how hard it is to balance, and do it well, the responsibilities at home, church and work. He has said to me more than once as an adult, “it is hard to be a good man in today’s world, there are not many role models.” I am very grateful my dad was a great example to me of how to balance those key roles of the LDS man.

From my childhood, and even as teenager, I loved to hear my dad tell a story or give a talk. No matter how smart I thought I was or how out of touch I thought he was with my reality, I never missed a chance to hear him talk. To this day there are few people who can hold my attention like dad, he can weave common, every day experiences into the most powerful gospel metaphors and make scriptures and general conference quotes come alive and sink deep in the listener’s hearts. I knew my dad loved listening to the Apostles and Prophets and he went out of his way to share meaningful stories and quotes with us, stories from conference that I have never forgotten. I still have old, ragged copies of general conference talks he sent to me at college or on my mission. I treasure them really. I came to love the brethren largely because of the way my parents do. Just as an example, once dad told us he would pay any kid in the family who could memorize the Apostles names in order five dollars. Of course I did that as fast as I could, and he taught me about each of them as I did. Through that process I really got to know them and recognize them when they spoke.

Dad also has a way of asking questions and listening to what you say that makes you feel like the only important person on earth. He has this spotlight that seems to flow out of him and onto you, and when he is really listening, it feels so warm and bright and uplifting. One of the hardest parts of their mission to Guatemala was that phone communication was so unreliable and frustrating that I stopped calling to share my thoughts, feelings, ups and downs with dad. I missed that more than even I realize.

One treasured memory from high school was when Dad offered to go on a senior trip with me. Many of my friends were going to various alcohol-fest parties, including all the way to Mexico, and I was feeling a bit excluded and sad. Somehow he picked up on that; he said he would go on a trip with me, just me and him, to celebrate my graduation. He let me plan and organize the days we spent in Chicago, and I felt so special and had such a great time. We had gone through some real contentious times through the previous years, and that time in Chicago was so healing. Later, when I had been on my mission about a year, I got a letter from Dad. In it was a Chicago Cubs ticket stub and a letter, saying something like “two years ago this week we were in Chicago together, what a great trip I had with you, I love you, Dad.” I was in the midst of my toughest area and really felt so boosted by his letter. I tear up right now, just thinking back on it.

From Dad I learned it is ok for men to cry, that Dad’s can be wrong, apologize, and change and there is no shame in that. I learned from him that honesty and integrity are real important virtues, to be fought for and preserved. I learned by watching Dad that the priesthood is something sacred, to be honored, but most importantly, that we have to serve. I learned from Dad to love to sing. I learned from Mom how to blend into a group of people singing (sorry Dad, couldn’t resist, the fruit was ripe, I had to pluck it!). I learned from Dad that it is so fun to tease and make fun of your Dad, something our kids love to do to me (recently I told the kids that this year I was going as a grumpy dad for Halloween, Aubrey said, “gee, you won’t even have to dress up!). Somehow that teasing makes a Dad more approachable, more real.

I love my Father. I am proud to carry his name. I hope I can bring it honor in all I do and say.