Grateful for Dad
My brother Mark went on a mission, married a beautiful girl, was on top of the world, working at a job where he could advance. They had one child, a girl; his wife’s mother was very involved in her care. They had twins, and the day that his wife brought the twins home from the hospital, Mark moved out.
His behavior afterwards indicated to me that he wanted the fun parts of dating and being with a woman, but not the childcare or listening or humbly working his way up. He wanted to come in at the top of the food chain. He wanted to strike it rich and not do the plodding steady work to get there. He married twice more and had two more children and divorced both women. His first three children were adopted by his wife’s second husband. He didn’t maintain a relationship with his other children until they got older, past the snot-nosed phase. He tried to be a buddy when his son became a teen. But by then the groundwork had already been laid, and he wasn’t in it.
I am grateful for my dad, his diligence and determination to support his family. I am grateful for my husband, who, along with diligence and determination, planned ahead. He bought life insurance; he paid off the van. He gathered as much education as he could, and he worked multiple jobs. More than that, though, both my dad and my husband were home at night, eating with us, listening, talking, hugging, instructing, praying with us. My dad made sure the car worked and the house was warm with wood in the heating stove. My husband cleaned house on his days off. They both supported their children’s efforts. I went to my brother’s basketball games with my parents. My parents came to the plays and swim meets I was in.
When the art from my high school class was auctioned, my dad bid on them. He apologized for not buying any. I was stunned; I never expected him to even go to the auction.
My husband supported my homeschooling. He taught his sons to play hockey and helped them become Eagle Scouts. He went to a Taylor Swift concert with his daughter, and helped another daughter earn an associates degree at home. He dated me every couple weeks. We tried for every week, especially once the older children could watch the younger ones. My husband changed diapers, washed dishes, changed the oil in the car, moved us across country multiple times without professional movers. He played Brikwars with us, using Lego people in crazy battles.
He led us in family home evening, and he held family councils. The last thing in every family council would be him raising his arms to his family and saying, “I love you.” We would hug and laugh. There was lots of laughter, and lots of love. I have tried to continue. Hugs, laughter, time together. It’s what we need.
