This precious little girl has known her daddy since she was born. In her brief life (less than seven months), she has learned a lot about this man whom she adores.
She has learned that he is trustworthy. He always holds her up when she tries to stand. He carries her wherever he wants her to go. He shows her new and exciting things. He always comes home. She knows she is safe with him.
This is the man of her dreams. In the next few years, she continue reading here
Last week I received this email message:
My dad, Dathan’s grandpa, has been gone since June 14, 2013, so seeing a sweet memory like this on his newsfeed was special to my nephew, Dathan, and he knew it would be special to me.
Since Dad rarely commented on Facebook I anxiously clicked on the link to see what prompted him to speak. It was this photo: find more here
A couple of things happened recently that caused me to ponder the roles and relationships in our family. Well, not just in our family, but in all families.
The first thing was a text I received from my daughter-in-law:
Matty, age 4, “Hey Dad. I mean, Jacob.”
Mom, “Hey, Jake, did Matty just call you dad?”
Jake, age 6, (seriously), “Yeah. Because I am the dad
when dad’s gone.”
Well, there you have it. Somebody has to continue reading here
Every time I visit mom I look for dad. I know he isn’t there, but I can’t help it, I look for him everywhere.
I used to find him in his empty chair because no one else sat in it. Other people sit in his chair now; he isn’t there.
I used to find him in his closet. I’d bury my face in his clothes and breathe deeply.
There are still a few things that belong to him, but they no longer smell like him. Or not like I remember him. He’s continue here
I’ve had this basket of flowers for 30 years. They’ve moved with us through six states and now I have to decide, will they go with us on this move.
It’s a hard decision to make. I look at these raggedy flowers that have been sitting on a shelf in a closet in my basement for the past eighteen years, and I remember the morning that Dad gave them to me: it was a Sunday, two days after I’d continue here
Jake and Matt rode their first Ferris wheel on Saturday. They were excited as they waited to get on.
Well, they may have been a little hesitant, but mom and dad were going to ride with them, so there was nothing to worry about – at least not for the boys.
A Ferris wheel is pretty harmless. Oh, there’s find more here
In the spring of 2000, my dad and I drove to North Carolina to document the works of art he and my Gramps had created out of stone. He told me he could pick out the stones that had smashed a finger, or been dropped on a toe. Every stone in every wall had a story. Dad talked a lot about a lot of things on that trip.
One thing in particular that dad told me was, “You continue reading here