Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

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I watched a video today of a little boy talking to his father.  Detail after detail of what the boy learned from his father was told.  “I’m watching you, Dad,” he said.

I’ve watched you, too, Dad.  For almost 40 years I’ve watched you.  From you I’ve learned to laugh.  I’ve learned to enjoy the little things in life.  To not take life too seriously.  I’ve learned to work hard at whatever I do.  And then relax.  To put a skip in my step.  To keep a song in my heart.  To put Christ first.  And to not end a sentence with a preposition.

I was on my way to 30 when I finally accepted that you did not make up every cliche I heard you say.  Fine, then.  You were clever enough to have said them first, though.  And this one thing I know—the one all important phrase that no one but you could’ve coined:

“Don’t worry about nothing.  ‘Cause ain’t nothing gonna’ be alright.”

It’s taken 40 years for me to realize that perhaps the double negatives were no accident.  It’s still not clear, though.  Kinda’ like your answers to us when we asked questions like, “where’s my book at?”  And you responded, “behind the at.”

Because of you, I believed I was a Princess.  Because of Mom, I just might be.  (Stay tuned, bloggers, for a story on the Royal Bloodline.)

I love you, Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

Your little girl

P.S.  If a picture paints a thousand words and my cards bring you a thousand tears, I’m sure this post will, too.

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“Happy Father’s Day, Joe!”

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I’ve been watching you, too.  I’ve watched you check the doors at night to make sure they’re locked, then the garage, the alarm, the kids.  And then check them all again.  It’s true at times I’ve thought you were beyond OCD and that you would drive me crazy right along with you.  But recently when I explained to Dad that your worry over Sophie or any of us for that matter has nothing to do with him or Mom, but entirely to do with your tendency to be over-protective, he said, “leave him alone.”

Quite frankly I was taken back by that response.  But I suppose I shouldn’t be.  He was pretty much that way with us.  I don’t think he checked the house five times, though.  Just sayin’.

One thing is for sure—you are protective of your own.  But I’ve learned it’s because of our value to you.

You are the calm side of “us”.  You are the voice of reason.  Loyal.  Dependent.  Consistent.  Nothing says consistent like eating fish sticks and salad almost nightly for a month.  But you have lost 30 pounds your way.

You are my best friend.  Even when I’m angry at you for telling me what I don’t want to hear.  Like, “you will gain weight from building muscles.”  Although it’s kinda’ hard to understand how I could gain four pounds of muscle in just three weeks of The 30 Day Shred. But whatever.  You’re still my best friend.

And I notice all of those little things you do that you don’t think I see.  Like fixing Sophie’s hair.  With a ponytail.  And a bow.  And I won’t ask why you tuck her shirt in her Army PTs Cammie bought her.  I won’t insist that she looks like a nerd with her shirt tucked in.  Nope.  Not one word.

I love you, Joe.  Thank you for all that you do.  For being you.  For being Joedaddy.

You.  Complete.  Me.

Your Angel

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“Happy Father’s Day, Father God!”

You gave me life.  You are my example of a perfect Father.  You’ve blessed me with the most wonderful Dad ever.  But you alone are perfect and Holy.  May you draw the hearts of every little girl longing for Daddy God.  Reveal Yourself to them and cause them to know that even without the love and protection of an earthly father, they can still trust You.  It’s safe in the arms of Daddy God.  I love you, Abba!

Your little girl


Honour thy father and thy mother:  that thy days may be long upon the land

which the LORD thy God giveth thee.

Exodus 20:  12