My Daddy.
He is probably one of the most impressive and incredible examples of paternal love and adoration that I have ever seen. That is including all examples shown in movies, in literature, heck even in hallmark card commercials. My Daddy is (in my humble opinion) the bees knees, and the very BEST Daddy on the planet. I don't remember a single moment in my life that my Dad made me feel anything less than the very best/prettiest/smartest/most talented/funniest/most clever/cute girl on the planet. When they say that a child is the "apple of a daddy's eye" I knew what that meant. I could see that in my Daddy. He has made me feel that every.single.day.of.my.life. There has never been a millisecond go by that I have ever questioned that he was there for me for WHATEVER I needed him for.
When I was small, I remember so many times he would sit on the floor of my room and "eat" plastic food and drink from empty cups with me. He wouldn't hesitate to pick up a baby doll, or dress a Barbie. He took me on my first date to see the Icecapades. He took me to my first movie. He took me to my first dance. He taught me how to drive, with the patience of a SAINT. (I remember spending HOURS in the parking lot of what is now the Yukon library. I would get so frustrated, and he would teach me patience.) He suffered through HOURS of choir performances, ballet recitals, and competitions. No matter how BAD the performances were, he would hug me, usually have a flower for me, and tell me (with BEAMING eyes) how amazing I was and how proud he is of me. He put up with my insanity when I LOST my mind around the age of seventeen... hum... maybe more like sixteen. Fifteen? Poor Daddy. He taught me how to fish, pitch a tent, throw a ball. He knew these were things that girls could do too. He never put me in a "you can't do this because you're a girl" box. If there was ever a man that encouraged a daughter to do or be anything she wanted to be, it was him.
Daddy never killed a boyfriend, though I am sure there were a couple he would have liked to. Though, now that I think about it, he never got too friendly with them either. Hmm, interesting. (Hey, BBH, it only took you about ten years to be his pal! Way to go!) Ha! He knew when to give me tough love. (He still does.) He let me fall a few times, so I could learn to pick myself up. But, I knew his hands weren't far a way if I couldn't quite make it. There were a few times that he didn't pull any punches, and let me know that my decisions disappointed him. But, that's the thing. He would always make sure I knew it was the decision. He would never ever say that I was the disappointment. I have never once felt that from him.
He showed me what a REAL man was like. How a husband and father cares for his family. Puts them first. He showed me what true priorities are. He worked his butt off for us for years. But when he got home, he always had the energy to show us that we were number one.
That's my Daddy. That is what a "father" is to me.
When a girl grows up with that kind of love, when a girl grows up being the center of a man's heart, it leaves pretty big shoes for a husband to fill. And when a lanky, scruffy twenty one year old fresh off the bus from Seattle came into my life, I am not sure I looked at him and thought, "THAT man would make the best father to my children." I am pretty sure my thought was more like, "Who is THAT mysterious and delicious tall drink of interesting??" Thirteen years later, I see now that God saw much much more in that moment. And I thank Him every day for that.
My Husband, the father to my kids.
I wrote a blog once about the moment BBH became a father, how every fiber of his being seemed to change at that moment. This is true. It was a transformation like I have never seen before. It was (and still is) amazing to watch. It is devotion, in the purest truest sense of the word. He is incredible with those boys. Completely self-less. He is a partner in parenting. He is plugged in, engaged, interested, supportive, and completely completely smitten by both of them.
BBH's desire to be a good dad runs so deep in him that he often twists himself up with doubt. The thought that somehow he isn't doing enough, or the right thing, or too much creeps in to his head and it eats him up. The only reason for this kind of self examination is a true desire to do right. Otherwise he wouldn't care. He knows how powerful the role of "Dad" is, and he doesn't take that job lightly. He is so empathetic and patient with them. He adores each of them for their quarks, for the small things that makes them the little men that they are, and beyond that, he recognizes those small things and nurtures them in a way that only someone truly in tune with their children can. I so so so admire this, and strive to be more like him in this sense.
I couldn't even imagine a better partner in this craziness that is parenthood. I couldn't dream up a better father for my boys. He teaches them how to be men, how to be themselves, and how to do it all while loving God and family. He teaches them this by doing it himself. He teaches them how to be a good husband, how to be a good dad, how to be a respectable responsible productive member of society, he leads by an incredible strong and beautiful example. And he does it all while making us roar with laughter on a daily basis. This man... this is what it means to be "Dad."
Happy Father's Day to the two most incredible examples of fatherhood this world has ever seen. How on EARTH did I get so lucky to have you BOTH in my life?
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