Yes, I am ashamed to admit that I forgot Father's Day this year. I can certainly make a whole slew of excuses pertaining to how distracted I was by being on vacation and then returning to work on Friday, then distracted by a morning playdate and an evening with my next door neighbor at Riverdance yesterday. I could say that we'd already bought ourselves a joint Mother's Day/Father's Day present (which we did), so I had put it out of my mind as being something coming up. I could say that every day is Father's Day! But that would be corny.
When I woke up this morning, I did remember it was Father's Day, and I also remembered that I hadn't gotten a card for him from either myself or Samantha. After kissing him good morning and wishing him a Happy Father's Day and running downstairs to expedite the delivery of coffee from machine to bed, I quietly told Samantha what day it was, and instructed her in the making of a card. I guess crayons and construction paper can be acceptable, so long as it's used by my 6 year old and not by me... When she'd finished, topping the card off with some stickers of Daddy Pig, she proudly brought it into the bedroom with a sweet, innocent "Happy Father's Day!" greeting that sounds so lovely coming from her.
I've always loved the photo above. You can see how tentative he his, holding this little bundle of his own flesh and blood, of human cells, of responsibility in it's highest, most auspicious, most critical definition. You can see how careful he is, possibly still in shock at this whole new experience that was to change our lives forever, in the most amazing way. He's the one that provided the strength and the voice of calm and reason when receiving Samantha's diagnosis, giving the crucial transfusion of strength and calm and reason to me in turn.
Happy 7th Father's Day to Steve, an amazing father to our amazing daughter!
We love you!