Father's Day

I must admit, I never fully understood what this holiday celebrated on the third Sunday in June truly meant until this year. I have always bought my dad a card and gave him a customary “Happy Father’s Day” phone call. As a son you can never truly have an appreciation for what being a father means. However, this Father’s Day was different for me. This one allowed me to view this day from a father’s perspective.

I woke up as usual to the precious “get me out of this bed” sounds of our awaking baby. I put him in the bed with us to roll around a little bit before we were to get ready and head off to church. Then Amy quietly delivered a bag full of Father’s Day goodies from her hiding spot somewhere in another room which included a precious card and a crayon drawing including an outline of Simeon’s tiny hand. I couldn’t help it, as much as I tried my eyes filled up and I couldn’t really say anything. I think I managed a weak, “thank you” in an effort to prevent a larger cry scene.

This was a day I’ll never forget. Of course, Amy has managed to one-up me by being in Kolkata at Mother Teresa’s home on Mother’s Day. I don’t think that one will ever be topped!