Let's hear it for the dads!

It’s Father’s Day and I am not with my fathers. In fact, because I won’t be able to share exactly how I feel with each of them, I am sharing it with all fathers.

First of all, let’s get rid of the horrible stereotype that media continues to push about dads. They’re not all clueless, lazy or uninvolved. Dads are great. Yes, they’re goofy. Yes, they’re full of “dad jokes.” Yes, they drive us all crazy sometimes, but they have one of the most important jobs in the world. I have been so blessed to have so many stalwart men in my life who prove the “sitcom dad” stereotype wrong every day. I’m pro dad! Let’s give dads more credit.

My husband inspired my thoughts, when we were on a date last night. I took him out, alone, to celebrate Father’s Day. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, since the point of the holiday is to celebrate the fact that he has kids, but I wanted him to recognize how grateful I am that he is the father in our family. A couple nights ago, he spent several hours watching video clips and reading about some exemplar fathers in our life. He quoted one of the men during our date, as we talked about our family, “I may not be good at a lot of things in life, but I am good at a few things, and one of those things is being a dad.” The simple statement stuck with Eric and brought on some sweet sentiments during our dinner together. I am so grateful for the simple confidence Eric has in himself, his role as a father and the love he has for his children.

Beyond that, Eric has found a way to take his role of father to the next level these past couple months, as he has been sensitive to us losing another pregnancy. I expressed in my last blog post that it can be very difficult for men to understand miscarriages, yet he has found a way to be patient with the changes I am experiencing and to be sensitive to the needs of our family as we grieve and move forward. Eric and I find every way possible to add more change, adventure and stress to our life, and it isn’t always easy on us. But somehow, we manage to cling to each other more and more, as we work through every challenge. Eric thanked me tonight for letting him be the father of my children. Eric, you are the only man for me and the only man for the job.

I don’t know if someone thought I needed a little extra help in this life, but I was given two dads. Not everyone is quite so lucky. My first dad, Fred, spent a couple of short years as a father in this life. He had me, his oldest daughter, and was anxiously awaiting another daughter, when his life tragically ended. My memories of him are simple and sweet, most of them comprised of stories told to me as a child. Recently though, his life and his love for me has become a bigger part of my life.

I can only imagine that God has helped urge the people who knew Fred to reach out to me and share some of his love. From phone calls, to letters and photographs, to sweet meetings with his friends and family, I have felt him watching over me. And it always seems to be that those moments I learn more about him is when I need it most. I strongly believe that even when death separates children from their loved ones, or parents from their children, those people are not gone forever. I can feel Fred’s love. I know life didn’t allow him to do all he planned as my father here on earth, but he will always be my father and will always be caring for me.

Then there is Bob, my dad. It’s hard to find words to describe a man who chooses to father children who are not his own. But for my dad, we have been anything but. This may seem like a strange way to recognize his love, but I think the first time I understood how much he cared was the first time he was disappointed in me.

Bob was engaged to my mother, and he had given me my own ring, as well. I was only three, but the tiny pearl ring was such a sweet token of his love. Unfortunately, my age and the ring didn’t mix well. He found me one morning, sitting in his room, chewing on the ring. The soft gold was now a squished mess. I still remember his disappointed face, but his loving reprove.

More than twenty years later, my dad gave his first granddaughter a similar, sweet gift, a hand strung pearl necklace. It was her third birthday. And as if time was reminding all of us of his patient love, my daughter broke the necklace when she gave it a quick tug, the first time she wore it. I recognized the loving reprove and the patient laugh as we all picked up the pearls from our hallway floor.

I can not imagine anyone else teaching me how to change a tire, waking me up every day for school, walking me down the aisle on my wedding day and welcoming my two little girls into the world on the day of their births. I will never be able to adequately express my gratitude for the father he is to me.

So, I wish a happy Father’s Day to the men in my life, and the men in yours. Happy Father’s Day to the dads who are pushing the stereotypes and creating a new generation of dad; one who gives more, sacrifices more and loves more. And I wish to all those who are missing their fathers or children or brothers or husbands this Father’s Day, a sweet reminder of their love, because they are always watching.