(This picture was taken on the day Little Man was given to us)
I was blessed with an amazing parent. One who taught me how to use power tools, how to change the tires and oil in the car, how to be strong, even when I was scared, how to be unmoved in the face of force. My parent coached my softball team, drove me to play practice, and taught me to mow the yard. Took me camping, showed me how to burn off the mantles in the propane lamp, and start and put out fires.
I was the luckiest girl in the world, because my mom was the best "dad".
As I grew older and thought about marriage, I wanted the same kind of dad for my kids. I married a man who melts when he holds a baby, who sang endless rounds of "I've Been Working on the Railroad to colicy babies, took us all camping, and went to every single one of the kid's plays, concerts, wrestling matches, track meets, and scout things. He talks baby talk to our dog, he gives horsey rides to the grand babies, just as he did for our kids.
When our oldest got married, I told her that her fiance reminded me a great deal of her father, who everyone, including myself calls him a good man. My daughter told me she thought she was very lucky, because she thought I got the last one. Highest praises, well deserved.
I married a good man, who became a wonderful father, and has ripened into a beloved Pop Pop to his grand children.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Posted by Jo at 11:09 AM