Dad was a hands on dad, and not a do as I say, not as I do dad. He patiently taught us, played with us, and listened to us. We had great talks.
It was around the time this picture was taken that I realized I was going to die someday. The idea of mortality hit me. I got up crying, wondering how I would go, when, if it would hurt. He told me God gives us grace when that time comes. That was enough for me, and I slept well that night.
He built us a treehouse. Two stories. I remember the first time I made it to the second floor by myself! You had to get there by rope. My floor had my play stove and sink, and mom would give me water and flour in one of my play pans so I could "cook." It was a great playhouse.
I remember Dad sitting us down at a card table and using my doll dishes to teach Steve and me about table manners. I've wondered for years what prompted that lesson!
I know there's a lot in the news lately about the importance of dads in a kids' life. I can testify that my dad gave me such a good foundation with relationships, trusting, and loving. It's easy to learn it when you've been given that love unconditionally!
Love you, Dad! I've always wondered how I ever managed to get the best Dad in the world!
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