Husbands on Father's Day

This is exactly how I feel about my wonderful husband Dave!  He has been my rock for 45 years.  Our son is 44 years old and we were just teenagers when he was born.  Still he has been the best husband and father any girl could ask for.  Everyday, I thank God for him.  He is such a special man.  And anyone who ever meets him loves him!  God has really blessed me!  Hope all of you like this entry. I am sure some of you have this same sentiment about your husbands!

Love,

Merry

ALL HE EVER WANTED
by Kathy Whirity

      Out of all the Father's days my husband, Bill, has celebrated as
a dad, I recall the one we spent apart.
      The girls were young and we had the opportunity to visit my
sister and her sons at their new home in Portland, Oregon.  Bill
couldn't take the time off work but he encouraged me to take the
girls and have a fun trip.
      The girls were anxious to see their aunt and cousins, so we
booked a flight, along with my parents, for a three week stay.
      Departure day arrived and Bill drove us all to the airport.
Right before we boarded the plane, and after he kissed us
each good-bye, Bill shook my dad's hand and, with a tear in his eye,
asked him to take care of "his girls."
      And then we were off.
      I was about to discover just how lost I would be without my
husband.  Portland is an awesome city.  My sister, the kids and I,
would often take walks to a park a few blocks away from her home.
While in the park, we'd climb the more than 50 cobblestone steps that led to a striking neighborhood of mansions on a hill.  It was said that movie starts owned some of the homes, Harrison Ford being among the Hollywood elite to spend time there.
      Though we never saw any famous faces, we'd walk around admiring the meticulously kept lawns as well as being mesmerized by the flowers that bloomed everywhere.  The beauty of the blossoms invigorated the senses leaving the neighborhoods literally drenched in eye catching color.
     We drove across a bridge,over water, that seemed to stretch 5
miles.  I was thankful to have something to watch -- a scenic view of
wind surfers catching waves held my attention until we were safely
back on land.
      But, no matter what the tourist attraction or tranquil scene, I
missed my husband dearly.
      After four days, I was ready to pack my bags for home.  But the
calendar was a sad reminder that I had another 17 days to go.
      I pre-ordered a Father's Day bouquet of flowers from the local
florist -- a pitiful replacement for our presence.  I spent that
Father's Day sipping lemonade on my sister's porch as I cherished a
gift of my own -- memories of my dear Bill being a wonderful, fun
loving and compassionate father to our daughters.
      Changing diapers was a main event if Bill was on diaper duty.
The task wasn't finished until little bottoms were lotioned and
powered to perfection.  He was a dad that paid attention to detail.
      When the girls were toddlers and sun dresses were the fashion,
the look was not complete until their dad patiently dotted each tiny
toe with pretty red nail polish.
      On cool summer evenings he'd fill the wading pool with warm
water from the hose he'd hook up to the basement faucet.  In the
winter, he'd bundle them up and pull them in the bright orange sled
over freshly fallen snow.
      He is a man who loves his family more than life itself -- his
family is all the life he's ever wanted or needed.  And there I was,
in a far away city -- me without my husband and our girls without
their daddy.
      That tender moment at the airport came to mind of my husband asking my dad to do what he could not -- watch out for us.
     The three weeks finally came to an end.  Bill was there waiting
for us when we got off the plane.
      As soon as we got home we were greeted with gifts.  Among them were Flight Attendant Barbies for the girls and a sparkling gold necklace for me.
      It felt like Christmas in July.  And the best gift of all was
being back home with my husband.
      All these years later, I can still remember how it felt when he
hugged me the minute I got off the plane.  He hugged me so tight I
didn't think he'd ever let me go.
      And, I can tell you, from that day on -- I will never let him.

             -- Kathy Whirity   <kathywhirity at yahoo.com>