“Don’t take for granted the love that this life gives you,
when you get to where you’re going, don’t forget to turn back around,
help the next one in line,
always stay humble and kind.”
– Tim McGraw
When I was asked to write a post for Father’s Day several thoughts came to mind. As I began writing them, I just couldn’t connect with what I was writing in a way that I felt like I was honoring this opportunity to connect with you, the reader. So, draft one turned into two, two to three, three to four, and finally here we are at five.
To be candid with you all, the words that follow will probably be some of the hardest I’ve ever written, and the most heartfelt at the same time. I’ve decided not to use this opportunity as an attempt to connect with you, but as one to talk to my two wonderful kids. They are, after all, what makes Father’s Day worth celebrating.
To my Son,
Before you were born your Nana used to tell me all the time that you never know how much you can love someone until you have kids of your own. The moment you were born I realized how profoundly true those words were.
I couldn’t be more proud of you. Your sense of humor always has me in stitches, like when we’re driving in traffic and from the backseat I hear, “Gas pedal’s on the right. Push it to the floor!” I constantly find myself amazed by your creativity when you build your Lego creations, or the art projects you come up with. While I’m annoyed by all the Lego land mines and cut-up pieces of paper on the floor, my heart also breaks at the thought that one day all too soon you’ll be grown, and I’ll miss the days when I would feel the agony of a 2×6 block under my foot as I carry you to bed. The kindness you show to other people puts a joy in my heart that I frankly don’t know how to aptly describe. I’ll never forget when you saw the Angel Tree at Walmart during Christmas and asked if we could, “get presents for the kids who need help.” You’re smart, witty, and you are honest like no seven-year-old boy I’ve ever seen. Those are wonderful qualities to have. I pray you always hold fast to them.
To My Daughter,
My sweet baby girl. Before you were born I was terrified. I always knew I would have a little girl because God has a sense of humor. I’ve never been around little girls until you were born. I grew up with two younger brothers. When your big brother was born I was prepared. I had experience with raising little boys. I had no idea what to do with a little girl. It was the most unprepared I’ve ever felt for anything in my life, and don’t tell her I said this, but I think your Mom got a kick out of watching me squirm.
But, now you’re here. You aren’t so scary. Actually, you’re beautiful. Your Momma was right about a few things. She was right about me figuring things out just fine once you got here. She was also right when she said I’d be wrapped around your finger in no time. You stole your Daddy’s heart and all it took was one look into those gorgeous blue eyes and that gummy, little grin.
Every day I look at you and I can see you learn more about the world around you. You’re not even four months old, and yet I swear you understand everything I say to you. I know the day when you are able to answer back is rapidly approaching. The day when I cannot get a word in edgewise will most surely follow. But, I cannot wait to see more of your little personality come through.
The eloquence of all the words I could muster on my best day couldn’t do justice to describing the joy you both have brought to my life, or the hope I have for you. Getting to be your daddy continues to be the greatest honor and privilege of my life. If there’s one piece of advice I hope to impress upon you as you go through life, it’s the simple adage of always stay humble and kind.
With all my love,
About the Guest Blogger
– Ryan Wade –
Ryan is a 34 year old husband, father of two and has been a stay-at-home dad for the last three years. Recently, Ryan accepted a position as a financial advisor for Thrivent Financial in Rogers. Ryan is passionate about men’s ministry and the St. Louis Cardinals.