My BEST Father's Day ever...

So...my best Father's Day ever is a tie between the very first one in June 1998 when I took Morgan to church that Sunday at Oak Hill Assembly. It felt really cool to be one of the guys standing when Pastor Steve Allen recognized the dads. But the Father's Day that told me I was doing it right was actually the Friday before Father's Day in 2001. Morgan was 3. The daycare she went to did a "Donut with Dad" on the Friday before Father's Day each year. This would be my first one because the previous two years she wasn't in daycare. They gave us a coffee mug and a picture and the one gift I treasured and still have to this day...it's a laminated survey sheet. They asked the kids some questions and the teachers would write down the answers...no matter how silly, or unusual: Here is Morgan's Q and A for Father's day 2001:

My dad is ______ year old. Her answer…7.

(This is old when you are four!)

My dad is _______ feet tall. Her answer…10

My dad weighs about _________ pounds. 446

My dad likes to watch____. Race cars and News

I like it when my dad________. Chops food

(I am a gourmet cook and Morgan has always

been fascinated to watch me working in the

Kitchen)


My daddy always tells me_____ He loves me.

It was this last question that made me cry right there in the daycare. Of all the things that popped into her little mind when asked what she most often hears me say, she answered "He Loves Me" I've tried to never go a day without telling her that and I think I've done a pretty good job keeping up with that goal. I've never heard those words from my dad. Not ever. I know it would have made a huge difference. More than money, more than applause or recognition for achievement. These last five years have been a grind I cannot fully explain. But never once did Morgan doubt my love for her. I think her life shows it. There is something about your dad telling you he loves you. Even if it's only once or twice.

All I Ever Wanted Was to be Your Dad...Filling the Hole in my Heart

You were so tiny when you were born. Not even 7 pounds. I'm a big man and that made you seem even tinier in my arms. We wrapped you in your Winnie the Pooh receiving blanket and it was like a little cocoon. When the time came to take you home, the car seat was even too big. We had to buy an optional neck roll for you to help keep your head held up.
I'd never felt anything like what I felt being your dad. I've never loved anyone in my whole life like I did that day...and every day since. Every mundane chore was a treat. Your mom never had to ask me to change your diaper or burp you. When you woke up at night, hungry, I would take you from your mom as soon as she finished nursing and hold you until you burped, and for longer than that even. You fell to sleep in my arms and I was hesitant to put you in your crib...I relished each quiet moment.
Just looking at you as you slept, feeling you near my heart, kissing your tiny forehead a million times in a night. Every kiss...every gentle touch of your tiny hands. Telling you "I Love You" a thousand times an hour. All of those were moments of tenderness I had never known with my own dad and they were serving to heal the hole it left in my heart.
We had to wait about six weeks before taking you out to meet the world. The day came on a Sunday. I took you to church while your mom rested at home. You were dressed like a princess making her debut before society. You never made a sound during the entire service. Pastor Allen came over and held you and his wife Vada did as well. Terry and Mary took their turn. It seems like only yesterday.
I was never more proud than I was that day...except for the next day. And the day after that.
Showing the world what a wonderful, precious, beautiful daughter God had blessed me with, made me feel ten feet tall. I was made for this. This is the role I treasure more than anything.
Because All I Ever Wanted Was To Be Your Dad.