John - Payne Family Traditions - 2008

As a child, I sometimes complained or joked about our family customs and traditions-- the caroling, the Provo paper route tour, the Saturday morning work party, the scripture reading, the Chinese food, etc. But I think the regularity, the repetition, the stability, was good for me. It probably still is. Certainly, whenever I see Dad now, I want to be take part in these little rituals again.

Some of these traditions took lots of planning, and were anticipated for weeks or months, like Secret Santa. At family councils (another tradition!) in December or even November, we would discuss the families, the gifts, the strategies. I remember borrowing our neighbor's VW Beetle for one drop-off, so that our target family would never know who was giving them their presents.

There were also traditions that just happened spontaneously, like Tickle Wrestle. Hopping from the couch to the fireplace, laughing my head off, trying to stay out of the reach of Dad's tickling arms. Man, those were good times. Do the younger kids remember this? I remember, and I remember them loving it.

I remember Sunday afternoons in Missouri, taking cake and ice cream and going to visit families from the ward or from the Sikeston branch. I don't think I understood that we were (often) visiting less active families, or other people who could use a friend, but it did give me something to look forward to about Sundays.

I think Mom and Dad chose to develop a lot of these traditions, like family prayer and scripture study. These were so deeply ingrained in us, such an important part of family life, that even when they were not there, the traditions persisted-- as Linda Mannering well knows.

But there were lots of things that Dad handed down not consciously, but just by being Dad. When we children speak of leaving early enough to be sure we're on time, our father's name is invariably mentioned. The same is true of any kind of hard work. It's part of Dad's legacy, his gift to us.

And it's not just us children that notice these traditions. A few weeks ago, I was up in the Uintahs helping to get the Haglund cabin ready for summer. (I got to burn up the dead trees. A boy scout's dream!) Every time one of Mom's family thanked me for being there, they also paid tribute to David Payne and said that they wished all the Paynes could have been there to help. I think Grandpa Payne must be smiling when he hears such things.

I love you, Dad!
John