It was just us for three years. Two very young kids who thought they were so mature. We loved being married, couldn’t wait to start our family and did so as soon as feasible. After getting you graduated from college, we were blessed by God to be given the greatest desires of our hearts–two children, a boy first, a girl second. We weren’t perfect parents. You had an even harder challenge since you had no role model to teach you about fatherhood. But anything that was deficient in your parenting skills you made up for with love and stability. A lot of people would have given anything to have a father as loving and as involved in their lives as you were with your children’s. You were a good father. I was there, and I know.

You were always there, no matter what. At every event. When they were born. When they graduated from high school and college. At every local ball game. At every milestone in their lives. You didn’t miss anything. You came straight home after work to have dinner with your family. You are a family man with a big heart full of love.

You loved your children no matter what. There were challenging times, like when you were going out of town on a business trip and had bought 5 brand new shirts–a real luxury for you. You bought them the night before you left, so I washed and dried them to discover that all 5 shirts had gone through the dryer with somebody’s gum. We were up most of that night with ice cubes, freezing and rubbing off the gum. It’s a good thing we didn’t i.d. the gum-owner! :)

You were hands on; you wanted to be an integral part of their lives. You fed them, burped them, sopped up their spit-up, bathed them, dried their hair, played with them, read to them, cleaned up poop from the kids and the dog, and cleaned up after them when they were sick. (You were the strong one who could do it without getting sick yourself.) You taught them how to “help” with housecleaning duties and with yard work. You always found a way to incorporate them into whatever you were doing. As they got older they were less willing to learn, but you still tried anyway.

You took them to church 3 times a week and were always concerned about their spiritual health. You taught them about God and about the Bible. Any church activities they were involved in had your full support, and you were usually involved yourself in some way. (Aren’t your drama costumes still in the back of the closet?) Only God and I have seen the tears you shed over your children, both in happiness and in pain. You carry a weight of concern for them.

You taught them to love books. You read many many many books to them. The same books over and over. You took them to the library. You took them to the book store and bought them books. You are passing on your love of books to your grandchildren.

You taught them how to play. So many times I thought I would lose my mind as you and the kids wrestled in the living room floor. I couldn’t tell who was crazier–you, the kids, or the furball dog, who definitely had the advantage. She could insert herself anywhere and nip the closest body part. I remember masses of flying hair–our daughter’s, the dog’s. Yelling and hysterical laughter were accented with screams as Blossom found an available tender spot and went for it. Now you are the favorite toy of our grandchildren. They know you will always take time to play with them. I’m not sure who enjoys it more–you, or them. You are silly. You aren’t afraid to get down on their level and have fun.

You were trusted. Your granddaughter would take a flying leap off the couch with no notice because she KNEW you would catch her. (Thank God you always did! Great reflexes!) You played this game with our children and most of our grandkids, but no one loved it more than Sunshine #1, who gave the game its official name, Knock-You-Over.

You always sacrificed yourself. For many years you were the only breadwinner. But you always stood aside and let your family spend the money. You never wore fancy clothes or expensive shoes. We rarely took vacations. You did without a lot of things you would like to have bought for yourself and didn’t complain. Together we made a leap of faith when we had to move our children from public school to a private, Christian school. God blessed that leap and we always had the money for the monthly tuition, though sometimes we scratched our heads and wondered where it came from.

You gave whatever your children needed. You drove several hours to fetch our sick son from camp, then several hours back, all in one day. You blew up balloons for their parade float. You taught their Sunday School class. You made sure they had great birthdays, including taking them to Reunion Tower and to Time Machine. When there were problems at school, you were in the principal’s office, standing up for your child. When there were problems at church, you made the necessary confrontation and stood up for your child. You always had their backs. You went to the pharmacy in the middle of the night. You and I took turns sitting up with sick kids. You tried very hard to protect your children from making major mistakes and tried to help them learn life’s lessons when mistakes did happen.

I love you for many reasons, not the least of which is the care and love you give your family. There are always things that could be done differently, but who knows what the impact would have been? I am very grateful for the years we spent parenting together. Thank you for being the father of my children. I could go on and on about all the selfless things you have done, but I’ll let these photos say the rest. Today I celebrate you. Happy Father’s Day.

(photos removed due to space)