My dad turns 63 today! I couldn't have asked for a more loving and devoted father.
My parents used to take turns reading my siblings and I stories at bedtime. My mom always read "Little House" books which we loved. My dad, on the other hand, read us arch books, which are Bible stories set in rhyme (which we also loved). He always sang rather than read them, usually with us singing along at the top of our lungs and yelling the words down the stairs to our mom. Quite a nice bedtime experience.
The picture above is from my husband's recent graduation. My parents drove 12 hours to get here! One beautiful thing about my parents is that they accepted Steve as family very quickly (once they got over the fact that their oldest daughter was getting married at 18...)
My father has worked his tail off to provide for his family, paying for college, weddings, taking care of grandchildren, and spoiling us all. He has a tender heart and and has never met a stranger. We used to tease him about saying "It's a beautiful day" to everyone on the street, but he could almost always get a smile and a response from people. Remind me to tell you about the ranger :) Nevermind, I'll tell you now. (*)
He has his mother's heart (more about Grandma later) and he always made her proud. He has child-like enthusiasm about learning and nature and the world. It's always a pleasure to get a call from him and find out what new things excite him. He was just diagnosed with glaucoma, and instead of being upset about the results, he asked the nurse at the eye specialist's office for a copy of his eye image because, as he put it, "the eyes are amazing!" He sees God's hand in everything.
I love my dad dearly and I strive to be more like him.
Happy Birthday, Dad!
(*) Once upon a time we were camping. We were, of course, eating s'mores. The ranger was driving through the campsite checking things out and my dad thought, "Hey! I'll go talk to the ranger!" So he made his way over, and they talked a bit. About what, I'll probably never know. When he turned back towards us, he had marshmallow stings hanging all over his beard. That poor ranger somehow managed to keep a straight face and not call for backup taking down some loon foaming at the mouth in his campsite. So from here on out, whenever my dad has anything on his face, his ever-so-loving family will tell him, "Don't go talk to the ranger!"