Father's Day

Memories before I was in about ninth grade are short and scattered. I remember playing with my little brother, after dressing him up in a dress and lipstick, on my elementary school playground one Saturday while my mom was at a church meeting. I remember feeling shocked on the sixth grade playground (1980) after loudspeakers announced, "The President has been shot." There are other brief memories, too, but some of my favorites involve my dad.

I remember being small and feeling very excited that my mom and I were on our way to pick up Daddy from playing football with his friends so we could go get ice cream. (My hero!)

I remember feeling terribly distressed that someone had stolen my little, red bike (still with training wheels on it) from in front of our apartment building. Then how happy and relieved I felt when my daddy found it for me (without any wheels) in the nearby forest. (My hero!)

I remember feeling very anxious that my mom sent me to bed before I could finish a cover for my report project on something in elementary school, and the next morning the cover was done because my dad had stayed up later than I did to finish it for me. (My hero!)

I remember following my brother home from the swimming pool, finding him on the ground after falling off his bike (he broke a tooth), knocking on a stranger's door for help, and calling my dad at work. I did not know how he would get to us to help, since my mom had our only car, but I knew my dad would take care of everything. I was right. Minutes after I placed that call, my dad arrived in a taxi to save the day. (Our hero!)

I remember stopping at a rest stop during a cross-country drive to visit family, walking into a woodsy area and being unable to get out of the woods without having to walk into spider webs, no matter which way I turned. My dad came into the woods after me, braving the spider webs to save me. He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me out of the trees to safety. (My hero!)

As an adult, my dad is still saving me. From being the first person to give me wise words of advice (hero) following the discovery of my husband's infidelity and driving over 1200 miles (1931 kilometers) to bring me home (hero) when I had noplace else to go, to cleaning some large, smelly, gross thing out of an old freezer left in my new basement (hero) by its old owners and digging stumps out of my new yard (hero), my dad will always be my hero.

Dads. Ever reliable, never failing, brave, strong, safe, loving, honorable, faithful, self-sacrificing, wise and heroic. It is obvious why God chooses to identify Himself as our heavenly Father.

Happy Father's Day to all the wonderful, brave, heroic dads who give their children the very best of truly selfless and unconditional love. You are the real men and true role models that little girls of all ages admire above all others.