Friday, July 2, 2010

Today is his birthday and we celebrate

Happy Birthday to my Father.

A man of many talents…
He taught me to ride my first bike…
How to catch and throw and run bases and the best way to slide into home plate….
And he never gave up on me when I continued to “throw like a girl”….
He taught me courage when I was mightily discouraged and to keep my chin up…. even if it means I’m giving someone something to aim their fist at….
He taught me a work ethic that goes heart-deep and can at times leave you feeling bone-tired….
How to pull myself up by the bootstraps, dust my bum off and keep moving….
That loving and serving God is the highest priority I can ever and should ever have….
He was the first man I ever kissed….
He was the man who stood tall and proud beside me with a lump in his throat as big as a golf ball and tears in his eyes the day he walked me down the aisle….
He took me with him on errands, to cut wood and work fields even if it meant a distraction for him, he knew how much his little girl just wanted to spend time with her Daddy….
He took me out my first time driving--- out on the two-track behind his parent’s farm…. Yelling out the window, “Help me, Help me” as I attempted to learn stick shift and herky-jerked us all the way down the hill…. Then couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to get back in the car with him again….
He held me, offering no words just love after I shared with my family that I had miscarried…. Tears coursing down his face and dampening my hair…. He took the day off work, prayed over me and sat patiently in the waiting room with my mother while I had to have surgery after losing the baby and was right there with my husband in recovery when I woke up.
He snuggled and whooped over each grandbaby I successfully delivered.
He took great pride in sharing with each of my babies- their very first bite of ice cream…. And now they are all ice cream fiends just like Paw-Paw…. Sassafras especially.
He caught me trying to jump off the porch roof and run away from home and sat with me on the sun-warmed back step to talk it out…. Not punishing but listening to my teen-age girl hurts…. And then sent me to my grandparents for the evening to be coddled….
He continues to listen to me when I call him to vent about something other…. Those things I still go to him for, like sibling matters, because he is my Daddy. He continues to offer sage advice and chokes down the “I told you so’s” and listens again the next time I call.
He apologizes when he is wrong and in doing so has shown me the power of forgiveness, mercy and grace.
He sings an awesome bass…. Taught me when I was little to love southern gospel quartets…. Singing the old hymns….
He tears up every time he hears “Amazing Grace” and we all think of his father, my grandfather, who so loved that song…. And was a man very much like my Dad….
I look at my husband and I can say that the old adage is true…. I married a man a lot like my dad….
And I am blessed for it.


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