I think it’s funny that you offered to write a Father’s Day post. Cute really, but did you really think I would let you? What would be next? Me sending you out to buy your own birthday presents?
No. I have something to say about Father’s Day. And I’m saying it directly to you (via my blog, which I guess technically makes it indirectly).
Despite how I love sleep and regret the early morning routine that goes along with having a toddler, one of my favorite moments of the day is first waking up. When I hear Katie stirring I know what is coming. Half asleep she calls “Daaaaaaaady!!!”
Of course, you were up long before us, spending time with the Father of us all, but you always hear that call. No matter where you are in the house only seconds go by before you are at our bedside, scooping your sleepy girl into your arms for an early morning cuddle.
Do you know what I think about as I lay there trying to muster the motivation to give up my snuggly body pillow? I relish the fact that you are our daughters first thought. That she waits for you to come . . . and you always do.
One day our daughter will wake up alone. She’ll be on her way to becoming an adult. I hope that when this time comes her first waking thoughts will be of her Heavenly Father. I hope that she will be aware of His presence and love for her, just as she is aware of yours in these early years.
It seems like that’s how it’s supposed to work. I’ll never know for sure . . . I never had what you two have. All I can say is I really needed to witness this. I needed to know firsthand that the love of a father is more than a myth.
You cannot comprehend the power of what you’re doing. You see one little girl, but there are really two hearts in your hands. The little girl in me is watching, believing, and letting go of the pain.
Thank you. You’re an amazing man and an incredible father.
I love you.
Happy Father’s Day