These are some of the thoughts that come to mind as I sit down to write you for Father’s Day. I hope you know how much I love, admire, and appreciate you.
For all those times when the outlook was bleak, but you held on and kept trusting Jesus to pull us through—thank you.
For making time, despite your work deadline that day, to help me finish my project for Bible class when I was in the 2nd grade (I still have that booklet!)—thank you.
For not getting impatient over my childish questions and nonsensical conversation starters—thank you.
For all the memorable trips you took us on and for lugging all our extra baggage—thank you.
For the tasty little healthful treats you brought home for us kids, which we always looked forward to and enjoyed so much—thank you.
For being the one to take me shoe shopping and for not stopping till we found the perfect pair—thank you.
For doctoring all those scraped knees, splinters, and maladies of every sort, and for dispensing all that extra attention and moral support in the process—thank you.
For all the amusing and animated tales of your childhood—thank you.
For the bedtime stories, which were always a high point of my day—thank you.
For making me feel safe and secure no matter where in the world we were, just because you were there—thank you.
For all the great basketball and softball games we played together when those were my passion—thank you.
For the times when you had to put your foot down and make me toe the line and abide by our family rules (now that I have kids of my own, I know how tough that is, and how important)—thank you.
For believing in me when it was time for me to spread my wings and fly, but I was sure I’d bungle it—thank you.
For teaching me how to negotiate the rental contract on my first place away from home—thank you.
For being a fun and adventurous grandpa to my kids—thank you.
For those one-on-one times you spent with me, in spite of your busy schedule and long to-do lists, which always meant the world to me—thank you.
Written by Angie Frouman. Published originally in Activated Magazine. Used with permission.