Father's Day

I don’t know what my earliest memory of my dad is. Dad was just always there. That, I know, is a huge blessing so many don’t have and I’m sure I take for granted. A wonderful blessing.

Some very early memories I have, though, are learning to throw and catch with my dad (a wonderfully taught lesson even if I do still throw like a girl). Or wrestling. (Got to get those shoulders down!) I remember silly things like rubbing balloons on your hair so the static will stick them to the walls. Or how to blow bubbles with your gum. But perhaps my earliest memory is jumping off the diving board at the pool, Dad treading water nearby just in case I needed help getting to the side. I was only 17 or 18 months old, so I could have easily needed help. But I was quite confident jumping off boards into ten or twelve feet of water. Why? Dad was nearby, so I was safe.

Dads give a lot of things to their kids, especially good dads who are seeking the Lord in all things. But for a little girl, the most important thing a dad gives is safety. The world makes us realize all too soon that being kept safe from all things is impossible. It’s too wicked. And yet, if Dad is there, somehow you just feel like everything is going to be okay. You’re as safe as you can be.

Now I get to watch Ed with our little girl. And I often wonder as he bounces her on his knee, or fills the sink to play with her rubber duckies with her what things my dad did when I was just tiny that I can’t remember. Sometimes, as a mom, when he swings with her too high or lifts her high above his head, I feel a moment of panic. But then I think there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep this little girl safe. And she knows it. She’s as safe as she can be.

Thank you, Dad, for keeping me safe. I love you.

Me and Dad.