Happy Fathers Day !

If you read my blog then you probably have figured out that I lucked out in the parent department. The day I was born God smiled on me and found me the best parents ever. Fortunately for me they adore each other and my siblings.

In most households if Mother is happy then everyone else is happy. In our house it was always who could make each other the happiest. Mutual respect in a relationship goes a long way. My parents are living proof of that. I have learned so much from them both it is hard to separate and think of just one with out the other. They compliment each other so much.

When I think of Father's Day and my Father I think of so many things. I think if you would indulge me I would like to share a little story about my Father with you today. Both of my parents come from Florida where you just grow things - flowers, fruit, vegetables, etc. When I was 6 we moved to Georgia. We had a big yard with trees and flowers and a creek in the back yard.

On moving day my Mother told us to go outside and play, but stay in the yard. Of course it was warm and new and we were sort of scared. Off my brother and I went to play. In no time we were"bored" so we found some small stones and started pitching them at our neighbors roof who lived down hill from us and next door. Needless to say the neighbor became quite irate. Not a good way to meet the neighbors. We were scolded and told not to do that again.

Several weekends later I awoke to my Father walking around the outside of the house and yard. He looked at me and said he thought we should probably put in a strawberry patch on the neighbors side of our property. It had good light, was on a hill, plenty of room for the strawberries to spread out. That the strawberries would help hold the soil in place on the hillside. He decided it would be a little father- daughter project.

We climbed in the car and off we went to buy dirt and strawberries. At six I wasn't too good at hauling things. I mostly watch or helped pull things with my brothers wagon. I did take over the job of watering and picking the berries once they were all planted. No more playing on that side of the house. The berries might get squashed.

The first year we didn't get much of a crop, the second year it was better, by the third year every morning was fresh strawberries. Four years later I realized my Father's solution to the "possibility" that my brother and I might disturb the neighbors became a place for us to learn to grow and tend things. That day was never mentioned again...my Father just handled it.

"Teaching us by doing" pretty much sums up my Father. Whether it was fixing something, growing something, or behaving like a gentleman, or showing everyone respect. My Father traveled -a lot - when I was growing up. He called every day, and when he did get home - he was home. We knew Mom was filtering everything we did or did not do to Dad. We knew what was accepted and what was expected.

The front page this morning had an article about Obama asking men to be better Fathers. That it is a privilege. How sad. What has happened that we can just let these people walk away from their kids? I don't understand it. So Daddy ...Thank You for ALWAYS being there for all of us. Thank You for being a role model for me on how men are suppose to behave towards other people. Thank You for showing me that honesty, standing up for what you believe, and anything worthwhile is worth working hard for. Thanks for showing my boys what "real" men are like. Thank You for being my Father. I love you.