My Great Men

The two most vulnerable people in my life split my heart in ways that I cannot articulate or describe. They stretch from from either end of the spectrum and the lines of self are blurred where both are concerned: the mother that gave me life and the child who I know will keep me here on days when my heart hurts too much to find other reasons to want to stay. 

These most important loves of mine are entrusted to the two most incredible people in my life, who split my heart in ways that I cannot articulate or describe. They stretch from either end of the spectrum and the lines of self are blurred where both are concerned: the father who raised me to believe that I deserve only the very best that life has to offer and the man who is exactly that. 

These two men, my husband and my dad, care for my heart at all times. 

They ask me how I feel, what I think, what I want.... in what I know to be the exact measures that validate and affirm me completely. 

My dad has always been what I consider to be the perfect "girl dad". 

He's never feared tough subjects, and instead has constantly reminded me that my judgement is good enough, and that if I trust my gut and my God, I'll live a life pleasing to both. 

If you raise a girl to believe her opinions matter she will find people willing to listen to them, but moreover, she will take time to consciously and carefully develop them. 

If you raise a girl to feel secure in your love and in herself, she won't jump into the arms of someone who promises this and fails to provide; she will know what it looks and feels like, having a ready and real comparison. 

My dad's love for me and his amazing example of both father and husband is not only the gift that HE keeps giving of his own accord, but the gift that awarded me a man like Chuck. 

Chuck's days are filled with obligations and he wears them all as if they couldn't be lighter. As a stay-at-home Dad, he cares for William, our home, and our duties. On top of this, he goes with my parents to all of my mom's many appointments because he can get her in and out of the car more easily than my dad can. 

It's not the fact that Chuck's days are spent changing diapers and keeping a 6-month-old on schedule that gets to me (though that would be enough), it's the fact that he films every "first" so that I don't miss it while working, takes William to breakfast, speaks of him like they are best friends, and never makes me feel guilty or bad for missing any of it. 

It's the fact that he woke up with William every single night (sometimes several times each) for 4 months without complaining once. 

It's knowing that he never lets William "cry it out" (at any time of day or night) and seeing how protective he is of him. 

It's watching them rock over the baby monitor from miles (sometimes hundreds of miles) away on work. 

It's remembering his predictable shadow in the light of the muted TV as he paced the house with a colicky newborn. 

It's the devotion it took to spend 6-8 hours a day alone in a hotel room with a 6-week-old so that I could be with my parents at the hospital and not chance William getting RSV (or worse). 

It's that every single day he asks how my day was and will never settle for a short response. 

It's the time it takes to leave sticky notes in my purse or in my car reminding me that he is proud and that I am loved. 

It's the hot baths, mounting boxes of chocolate, and glasses of red wine that await me when I give him enough of a heads-up of my arrival time, even (and especially) on days where I am considerably later than I promised.

And more than anything, it's the priceless peace that I am so blessed to live with, in even the most turbulent times, because I am cared for so well. 

The other day my dad said "WE love Chuck and WE know he's so good but can you imagine the surprise that people get when they walk into a Dr's office and they see Chuck and little William? Maybe they recognize him and maybe they don't, but either way they have to be wondering what he's doing here. And yet here he is and here he sits, most times for hours, taking care of this little baby while waiting patiently to deliver us to and from. People are starting to see it now and I'm glad that they are. I'm glad they are getting a chance to see what WE see." 

Similarly, my dad's days are filled with obligations and they are often a mirror image of Chuck's. 

In fact, I sometimes think of how closely related their tasks have come to be-- feeding, changing, cleaning, caring... and always, always as if THEY are the lucky ones. 

My dad keeps a college ruled notebook that he journals in every day. 

He keeps meticulous record throughout the day of what my mom ate, her medicine doses, blood pressure, naps, activities... all down to the exact minute. Most days he has to be reminded to eat and shower because he puts himself last at all times. This level of dedication is unparalleled and is identified as such by every medical professional in our path. I can't tell you how often I've been told, "I've never seen anyone like him before". 

What they don't see is that this only scratches the surface of his devotion. 

I promise that no matter how much you think you know, you'd be blown away by how much more he does. 

I'm certain that even I would be blown away by how much more he does. 

I'm also certain that the same goes for Chuck in his days and in his interactions with William. 

So thank you, Chuck, for being so good to William, and my dad, and me. And especially for being so good to my mom. 
For loving her, for respecting her, for valuing her and for fighting for her-- and most importantly for the comfort and security that your very presence brings to her at every appointment you carry her to. 

For the quiet, unrecognized, and so welcomed support that you and William give her in those waiting rooms, as you take her mind off of the present and remind her of what she's got going for her. 

For the abundance of gifts that I will never be able to repay you for. 

And for the fact that you never, ever, even once, even justifiably, even in a whisper, ask for thanks, or recognition, or assistance, or anything at all. 

And thank you, Dad, for having a heart like no one I've ever met. 
For raising me to believe that spirituality is a channel for which I could bring goodness and peace-- and for being a living example of it.
For the faith you have and share with everyone in your path. 
And the blessing of knowing my entire life that if I ever lost sight of a truly great man, I could look no farther than in my own home. 

The most vulnerable area of my life, my best things, my sweetest and most important things sit, sometimes nervously, sometimes contentedly, but always together in waiting rooms at least once a week (often more), and when I am lucky I get to sit with them-- and even when I am not, I am at peace because of these men, Chuck and my dad, who husband and father so well. 

Happy Father's Day. Thank you. Thank God for you.