This is a guest post, by my wife. This is her third post written today… she apparently is rolling.
My Dad. Every little girl’s dream Daddy. That’s who I grew up with. I never lacked in love, I never lacked in need and he always tried to fill my wants. He always had time for a hug, a snuggle and his smile always lite up when I would take time to give him a kiss.
His hands were used for discipline but never in a way that I feared them. Those big, weathered hands were loving. They still are. Most would be terrified but somewhere in the midst of life lines and embedded grease I find comfort.
Those big burly hands have given me many life lessons. I have learned that 17 pairs of underwear don’t create enough padding to make spankings feel OK. I have learned how to give and do so generously. I have learned how to put others before myself and always be there for someone when they are in need. I have watched those hands pay for more people’s needs than many even know. I have seen those hands reach out in willingness and be ready to respond at the drop of a hat. I have seen Jesus in those hands.
I remember when we were growing up that things weren’t always easy. I watched my mom pray, cry and do all she could to make sure that we were taken care of. I look back and at those memories and I see my Dad’s strength. I see his contentment, his determination and his ability to be the calmer of waters. If there is one quality I admire the most in my Dad it’s his consistency. He rarely explodes, he does not disappoint, he is faithful, he is hard working and he has given my family the best life he possibly could.
I don’t remember my Papa, (my Dad’s father) but I have heard about him. I was only 2 when he passed away so I don’t have the memories my brother does but I have been blessed to hear the stories. From what I have been told my Papa and my Dad are one in the same. I think it would be safe to say my Dad learned the lessons from his father that I did from him.
I have watched my dad knock on death’s door. I have seen him work hours that not many men could. I have watched him limp his way out the door to make sure he was able to take care of everyone. I have seen him fall asleep at the table more than once, I have had conversations with him while he was sound asleep. I have been disciplined, set straight and counselled by his wisdom. I have experienced the way a gentleman treats his wife. I have been loved like a daughter should. In my moments of weakness, he has given me strength. He has always instilled confidence within me and never missed an important event in my life. He has embraced my strong will and allowed me to be who my heavenly father designed.
My dad is more than just the genetic donor to my DNA. He is a leader. A silent presence. He is gentle, loving and caring. He is likable and a friend. He is someone I confide in. He is hilarious but you have to listen for it. He loves God and is one of the few people I know that truly lives in the footsteps of Christ.
My Dad. To me, he is a super hero. In reality he is just a man who is doing his very best to live life the way he feels he should. There is no way to use words to conclude but if you could see my face you would know how great my dad is because when I think of him all I can do is smile.
That’s my Dad.