Father's Day

Well, kids, as you know your father rocks (see previous entry). I think that while you are still 4, 2 and 1, no one truly knows how spectacular your dad is better than you do - and I love how much you adore him. I also know that when you read these entries for the first time you might have some other ideas about your father and I's "coolness", but I guess we'll see.

My favorite thing, if I could have just one about your dad, is that there is nothing he loves more or anything that he loves better than you guys and me. Everything else is second place - including himself. Not everyone can say that about their dads.

The thing about becoming a parent is that once you are someone's mother or father, you gain a bit of immortality. Because no matter if the time period that you are able to change diapers, tie shoes, give advice, pay tuition, yell, listen, hug, and love is for weeks, years, or decades; when you are gone, you're still someone's father, mother, grandmother or grandfather. That part never changes.

If someone asked me about my own grandmother, I wouldn't say I don't have one. I'd say, "her name was Edith and she loved to have parties". Or "her name was Helen and she loved the Minnesota Twins and Kirby Pucket". We're all still very sad because of Grandpa and Uncle Tom, but I'm remembering today, that they're still a big part of our family. When someone asks you about your Grandpa or your uncle, you'll be able to smile and say, "his name was Tom and he loved me." And it couldn't be more true.

We've worked hard to make this a nice day for dad - but I think the best thing that you'll do for your dad today was cuddle with him in bed. You read the newspaper (there were pictures of the Wild Things in the comics) ate cheesy eggs (only Finn really likes the eggs - Seamus is still an apple-man), and we got to enjoying sitting against big pillows with the beginnings of a summer tan, the cool breeze coming through the window, and that was the best gift of all. You might not remember today - but the happiness that settled over us at that moment becomes one of the translucent layers of our family's love. And that love stays long after we're gone.

There's a poem I've been thinking of that I want to include today, it's from a silly cabin book, but something that has stuck with me since I was a little girl.
From Tom Hegg's poem, Grandpa's Hands:

Grandpa's hands may be at rest
But we will be forever blessed
Because hands that did their loving best
Can never lose their touch.

Some photos...