In honor of the upcoming Father’s Day holiday, I felt compelled to write a small (but meaningful) ode to the men in my life. I’ve been writing and re-writing it over in my head, and I know it will not come out perfectly, but my hope is that through it these men will know how much I appreciate them.
I’ve started to realize that in every picture Macy draws of our family, it has six people – herself, me, Selah, Kate, Jeff and her Papa, who to her is just as much a part of her immediate family as we are. Every time she writes out the names of her family members, she always includes P-A-P-A, which always brings a smile to my face. On Saturday mornings, she runs into his bedroom, wakes him up, demands that he read her a book (which he does) and then comes back into my room asking me for my Starbucks order. It is their special time together – her and her papa. On Saturdays that I’m feeling overwhelmed, my dad takes my grocery list and goes to the store for me. He starts my loads of laundry and sometimes even folds my clothes. He gets the mail, remembers to turns the porch light on, takes the garbage out, cleans the stove, does the dishes. He may think I do not notice these things, but I do. In the evenings, he pulls Selah up into his lap and does puzzles or helps her with her sticker book. He puts on music to watch the girls twirl around the living room. And he tells them every day that he loves them and showers them with hugs and kisses.
And with Selah – I’ve started to notice that she is becoming more and more of her daddy’s girl. If Jeff is going to the store, she wants to go. If Jeff is going outside to check on his garden, she wants to go. Daddy! Daddy! she cries, until he picks her up and puts her on his shoulders. She will sit in his lap and snuggle. Jeff changes diapers, cooks almost every dinner, cleans up the mess and holds Kate while I put the other two in bed. He takes care of our finances, fixes things around the house, helps me clean out the garage, takes the girls outside to the playground. If the girls want to do something fun, they run to their daddy. He is exponentially more fun than I am. And much more likely to say yes. He’s already captured Kate’s first few smiles – and I’m sure her first word will be da-da.
I love my husband and my dad. I love that they take care of me and my girls. I love that at night, after I’ve gotten everyone to sleep (which still feels like nothing short of a miracle) that they are the two I have to talk to. And watch sports with. I love that my dad will fill up my car with gas if he drives it. I love that Jeff will scour the mall looking for a Coke Icee for me because I am craving one.
So to the father of my children and to my father – Happy Father’s Day. I love you both so much.