Happy Father's Day!

I said a few words about my dead mother a month ago; I feel urged to say a few words about my very much alive and fabulous father today. (And yes, that's me on my dad's lap, Christmas 1975. Do you see what a sugar addict I was, right from the beginning?)

Thank you for teaching me that ice cream is an important food group.

Thank you for passing on your love of puns and word play. [Did you hear about the man who's spaceship crash landed on a purple planet with purple seas and purple rocks and purple aliens. I think he may have even turned purple himself. You could say he was marooned. -- Sorry, I only really remember the punchline.] I loved the letter you sent me when I was in college (a cut-out vinyl letter M) as well as the preparation kit for my oral exam (lipstick, toothpaste, toothbrush and dental floss).

Thank you for letting me stop shoveling the roof before either of the boys and going inside for hot cocoa.

Thank you for treating me like a princess and for loving me. Thank you for all those snuggles on nights when I had nightmares and couldn't sleep, even when I was a teenager. Thank you for learning to endure my affectionate self despite your more reserved tendencies. You always gives me hugs and loves and I appreciate that and love that so much.

Thank you for the ongoing saga of Penelope and Dastardly Dan and the many voices of this one man show. You have made me smile on days when I didn't think I could and made me so grateful to have a father who would make my roommate say, "Your dad called. At least, I think it was your dad."

Thank you for working so hard to provide for all of us these many years and for teaching me, by your actions, that my children will always be my children, no matter how old they are, and I will always wonder where they are, how they are doing and what I can do to help.

Thank you for all you have been and done since Mom died. Thank you for loving my mother and for giving me an amazing example of what a marriage should be and what a good husband is like. Thank you for grieving her passing and rejoicing in it as well as a birth into somewhere better.

Thank you for respecting me and allowing me to speak my mind and be an independent woman and for not ever making me feel bad about those opinions and insights, whether they were right or wrong.

Thank you for letting me go to NYC, on my own, when I was 19. I can't imagine how hard that was for you. For me, it was a tremendous opportunity.

Thank you for loving my friends and my husband and for having a heart big enough to accept those who come into your life.

Thank you for changing Quinn's diaper. Once. And for not destroying the photographic evidence. I still have it. Somewhere.

Thank you for being a good poppa and for loving my children.

Thank you for your testimony and faith in Jesus. You don't speak of it often but I find I see it in how you live, particularly in those moments when you think no one is watching or that no one will know that you have the heart of a marshmallow.

Thank you for teaching me that even children must pay taxes in the form of losing the curly-q from their ice cream cones or the first bit of some sweet; I didn't appreciate it then, but I do now! Thank you, as well, for being willing to take the bullet for me and always taste testing my food to make sure it wasn't poisoned. Such selflessness! Such sacrifice!

I love you, Dad. I love your heart. I love your sense of humor. I love your thoughtfulness. I love the way you struggle to do what is right. I am grateful you are my father. God has blessed me so much in giving me you. Happy Father's Day.