My Dad

Since Father's Day is this Sunday, this is a post about my Dad.  However, sometimes words fail me when I try to explain what it is that makes my dad so special.  Since pictures can often say so much...

I am my father's baby girl, which I exploit shamelessly.

My dad was in the delivery room when my oldest was about to be born.  It may sound strange that I was comfortable enough for my dad to be there....After a lifetime of him waking me when goats were born and making me watch a documentary on childbirth in middle school, and who can forget the amniotic sack that we stretched out after the colt was born....I knew it was something that would mean a lot to him.  Of the six of his children, he was only able to witness the birth of his youngest.  Sadly, the only witnesses to L's birth was hospital staff. 

My sons have a lot of important men in their lives.  Most importantly their father, my husband, D.  They have uncles and great uncles and grandfathers.  I think that my boys too, will one day find it hard to describe how special Grandpa is.

 

Finally I share a tradition:  Every evening when my dad would come in from the barn, he would stop at the front window and make "a face" at whoever was in the room.  We would always return "a face".  Even now, when I visit home, I find myself rushing with my little boys to the window for this little exchange.

I love this face.  I love my dad....big bunches.