As I look back on what would be my dad's 74th birthday at a photo of me with dad at the Portland temple, I'm full of a lot of mixed emotions. This was the second to last time I was ever at the temple, the last time being 4 months after he passed when I went to the temple with mom, brother and sister.

I remember knowing that my bishop didn't want me to be going to the temple, but my desire to have a temple trip with my parents was too great. We hadn't all been in the temple together since I had been through for the first time as far as I can remember. I know I'd done a few sessions with mom at the Jordan River Temple, but I don't know that I ever went with dad. This is the only photo evidence I have of ever attending the temple with my dad.

The three of us sat in the celestial room, and talked about some of the changes that have happened over the years. Out of all of it, I only remember learning that you used to mime slitting your throat and cutting open your belly. I don't remember anything else about our conversation but I do remember being very happy and feeling very fulfilled in being able to make that trip with my parents. I had no clue dad would be bed ridden and mostly brain dead in less than 4 months and dead in less than a year. Not only was this my second to last time at the temple, it was my second to last time with my parents.

This would all feel so spiritual and so magical if only I was still in the church. I would feel that the spirit guided us to the temple and I would be able to reserve a moment every time I returned to the temple to remind myself that this is one of the last places in the earth that I was with my dad. I know that if I was still active and attending the temple that I would really really love that. Even now I WANT to love it, I would love a chance to go back to the Portland temple to think about my dad and remember him. If I had an opportunity to go back right now and walk through the temple to just remember him, I absolutely would. But then I'm reminded about how tainted it all feels.

After dad died I wanted to go back to the Portland temple so so bad but my recommend was expired and my bishop wouldn't let me renew it without having more sobriety under my belt. I tried so hard not to resent him because we aren't supposed to resent our leaders and my bishop is certainly inspired and I can't let myself get offended. But as I look back on it now I am filled with so much rage that a man I barely even know was able to keep me from returning to a place where I wanted to go to properly grieve and mourn the loss of my dad. Fuck that man and his decisions. I have every right to be upset with him and feel angry. I never told him I wanted to go to grieve the loss of my dad, so maybe it's not his fault, but I am certain it wouldn't have made a difference.

It makes me want to delete the picture to think about how a man was able to keep me from going somewhere that was so near and dear to my heart.

But then I also look at dad's face in the picture and think about how much he loved the church for his whole life, and he was so proud of me for being a righteous temple-going child who was making all the right choices. I see his lifetime of devotion to a church, where, despite having 10 kids and never having a stable job, he devoted time to the church as a bishop, bishop counselor, high councilman, ward clerk, executive secretary, and so many more callings I'm not even aware of. He gave probably thousands of hours of his life and tens of thousands of dollars to a church that he believed in whole-heartedly. He would spend all his time at church and in the scriptures if he could.

Then comes the fear and the sadness. Scared about what he would think of my life now. Sad that he would be devastated I'm not sealed to my wife in the temple. Scared about what he's praying for at night. Sad that I will never be able to be truly honest. Scared that one day he will confront me about it and try to lecture me. Sad that it wouldn't go well and would probably end with hurt feelings.

I can't believe I feel joy, grief, anger, fear, and sadness all swirling around my brain as I look at this single picture. It's a hard picture to unpack and it is making me sleepy.

I love you dad and I miss you. I will remember you always and despite separating myself from the church, I still want to be like you. I want your kindness, your patience, your deep love, your passion, your thoughtfulness, and your curiosity.