.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Superhero Sunday
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| Superman Billy with my grandson, Xander |
During Holland's notorious "Hunger Winter" in the fall of 1945, she experienced real hunger and she carried that memory forward as she accepted what she considered her greatest role as a UNICEF International Goodwill Ambassador.
For five years, she traveled to over 20 countries as a witness and advocate for children who were struggling to survive.
"I feel so strongly that's where it all starts, with kindness.
What a different world this could be if everyone lived by that."
"I have been given the privilege of speaking for children who cannot speak for themselves,
and my task is an easy one, because children have no political enemies.
To save a child is a blessing: to save a million is a God-given opportunity."
~ Audrey Hepburn
 |
| Audrey Hepburn (1929-1993) - wise, wise words |
On a lighter note and in the spirit of fun . . .what woman today doesn't owe Audrey a word of thanks for giving us "the little black dress." We always have something appropriate in our closet thanks to Audrey and the black Givenchy dress she made famous in 1962.
The little black dress (aka LBD) is cited as one of the most iconic items of clothing in the history of the twentieth century. Reserved for mourning in the 1920's, changed at the will of Coco Chanel, and declared elegant and classic by Audrey in the 60's, there's now one for every occasion. I must own 20 of them and I just keep buying them!
Honoring all superheros of children today and I think I'll watch some Audrey movies as well.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Certifiably Crazy Urban Squirrels
I know that my most recent post was about choosing JOY and being on the lookout for everyday things that can give us joy, but today I'm having a little problem with urban squirrels and that seems to be having a negative effect on my joy factor.
We have this amazing porch off of our bedroom that I love to live on. It's my morning porch and to me, it's one of the best places in my house. The morning sun peeks up over the rooftops and floods onto the porch and through our bedroom windows. It's the closest thing I have to a treehouse but the problem is, I have to share it with urban squirrels.
So can someone please explain urban squirrels to me? Two years ago, I went on a trip with my 8th graders to NYC and after traveling all night on a bus with wide-awake teens, I decided to catch up on the sleep I had lost by snoozing on my morning porch. The varmints had literally taken over in the four days that I had been gone and they were obviously unhappy that I was back on their playground.
All I wanted to do was sleep and my z-z-z-s were continually interrupted by a gang of squeaking, chattering, chit-chatty, ADHD squirrels that were playing a game of "take back our hood." This gang of fuzzy-tailed thugs kept sneaking up to my chair, surrounding me and then cursed in their squirrel chatter to each other as if to say, "What the #?!* is wrong with this human? Do we have to stuff her in our jaws and store her away for winter to get her to leave?"
Repetitive shooing was futile. Within minutes, they returned. Eventually, one of them decided to go all postal on me and he jumped down from the eve of the roof within inches of my chair shreeking in his crazy squirrel language. What kind of nuts do urban squirrels eat that make them so aggressive and obnoxious? It's like a squirrel mafia with definite boundary issues! A few years ago, one of these urban squirrels was gutsy enough to stop a White Sox game. Check this short video out:
Crazy Urban Squirrel takes over Baseball Game
Fast forward. These crazy possessed squirrels with personality disorders continue to be a constant issue on our beloved morning porch. One morning this winter, Amélie woke me up to look at a squirrel that had his little squirrel nose smashed up against the bedroom window as he peered in with his beady little eyes. Amélie shouted as she shook me, "Nonna, that squirrel just tried to jump through the window and he looks like he's really mad. I think he has an anger problem." Sure enough, the thump that had initially startled me from sleep had been this crazed squirrel, perhaps the leader of the squirrel gang that had accosted me on that May morning two years ago. Was I now to believe that the morning porch and their trees were suddenly not adequate housing for these crazy rats with furry tails? Was the plan now to take over our entire house?
Back to why my joy factor has been negatively affected today . . first really nice day of the season....70 degrees. . . sunny . . . perfect morning porch weather. Dewinterizing the morning porch is the first task. And this is what I found. $200 worth of canvas covers for the porch furniture that has been destroyed by unionized urban squirrels who evidently think the world is their oyster and they will take whatever they want.
Where are Rocky and Bullwinkle when you need them? I'm sure they could handle these squirrel bullies.
Looking for the joy here and laughing at myself!
Moral of the story: when a mean and angry squirrel who is tired of living in the elements throws himself into your window as an expression of his squirrel misery, take him seriously or he will dine on your canvas and punish you for your inhospitable attitude and lack of compassion for his lot in life. Next year, the porch furniture goes into the garage and I really think the squirrels should retire to the country.
So can someone please explain urban squirrels to me? Two years ago, I went on a trip with my 8th graders to NYC and after traveling all night on a bus with wide-awake teens, I decided to catch up on the sleep I had lost by snoozing on my morning porch. The varmints had literally taken over in the four days that I had been gone and they were obviously unhappy that I was back on their playground.
All I wanted to do was sleep and my z-z-z-s were continually interrupted by a gang of squeaking, chattering, chit-chatty, ADHD squirrels that were playing a game of "take back our hood." This gang of fuzzy-tailed thugs kept sneaking up to my chair, surrounding me and then cursed in their squirrel chatter to each other as if to say, "What the #?!* is wrong with this human? Do we have to stuff her in our jaws and store her away for winter to get her to leave?"
Repetitive shooing was futile. Within minutes, they returned. Eventually, one of them decided to go all postal on me and he jumped down from the eve of the roof within inches of my chair shreeking in his crazy squirrel language. What kind of nuts do urban squirrels eat that make them so aggressive and obnoxious? It's like a squirrel mafia with definite boundary issues! A few years ago, one of these urban squirrels was gutsy enough to stop a White Sox game. Check this short video out:
Crazy Urban Squirrel takes over Baseball Game
Fast forward. These crazy possessed squirrels with personality disorders continue to be a constant issue on our beloved morning porch. One morning this winter, Amélie woke me up to look at a squirrel that had his little squirrel nose smashed up against the bedroom window as he peered in with his beady little eyes. Amélie shouted as she shook me, "Nonna, that squirrel just tried to jump through the window and he looks like he's really mad. I think he has an anger problem." Sure enough, the thump that had initially startled me from sleep had been this crazed squirrel, perhaps the leader of the squirrel gang that had accosted me on that May morning two years ago. Was I now to believe that the morning porch and their trees were suddenly not adequate housing for these crazy rats with furry tails? Was the plan now to take over our entire house?
Looking for the joy here and laughing at myself!
Moral of the story: when a mean and angry squirrel who is tired of living in the elements throws himself into your window as an expression of his squirrel misery, take him seriously or he will dine on your canvas and punish you for your inhospitable attitude and lack of compassion for his lot in life. Next year, the porch furniture goes into the garage and I really think the squirrels should retire to the country.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
35 Things that Make Me Joyful
My daughter
bought me a new journal called “God’s Promises for a Mother’s Heart” for my birthday and sure enough, as I opened it up this morning to begin writing in it, the first
page encourages me to “look for reasons to be joyous and to celebrate.” Journals to me are like iPods; I believe they somehow
know intuitively what message to send you just at the right time.
Admittedly,
this is frequently difficult because it seems that there are so many people
around me who are genuinely hurting and going through downright difficult times. My mom, however, taught me to be an optimist. She is the
original Dale Carnegie/Norman Vincent Peale quote queen so I have always tried to be a good daughter
and make a concentrated effort each day to look for the joy and solutions
rather than the sadness and problems.
That’s still
a big mission though and one that sometimes is ridden with failure for me. Easter
weekend is a great reminder for us all that even in the midst of great suffering and
turmoil, joy comes in the morning. Like
the women in the garden on that first Easter morning, we have to be willing to
live among the sadness sometimes and wait it out so that we can see the joy in
the morning. Faith means being open to
recognizing joy when it comes, even if it doesn’t look the way we expected it
to look.
Of course, not everyday
is overflowing with joy and celebration, but there truly are moments in each day that
can cause our hearts to burst with joy if we are simply on the lookout.
These
are some of the humdrum things that are joyful to me. Maybe you'll relate to some of them.
- The sun popping up over the rooftops and sneaking into my bedroom window through the leafless trees
- The quiet crispness of winter (even though right now I’m sick of it)
- The green and warmth of spring and the birds waking me up with their chirping
- In the heat of summer, swinging on the porch swing that my dad and Uncle Doyle built for me
- Hearing the crunch that comes with walking on autumn leaves that have dropped to the ground
- Hearing my husband say thank you for a home cooked meal ( I guess I could grab this joy a little more often if I would cook more!)
- Seeing my kids (or anyone for that matter) in loving and healthy relationships that make them smile and beam from ear to ear
- A picnic – anytime, anywhere
- Watching my kids teach my grandkids about God’s love and the joy that faith brings
- Music, music, music, music . . . listening to it, playing it, singing it
- Watching my grandkids learn and discover the world and voice their own opinions and ideas as if they were the first people in the world to ever discover this knowledge
- Hearing my granddaughter, Amélie, say “this is the best day ever” – nearly every single day
- Seeing a really big body of water everyday that constantly reminds me of just how small I am and how great God is
- Trees - Trees with leaves or trees without leaves – can never decide which is more beautiful
- Any sunrise, a winter sunset
- A full moon shining on the lake or peering through my window
- The memory of running through a field of sunflowers in Spain with my husband
- Making a meal for my mom and dad
- My day-in, day-out, through thick-and-thin girlfriends and remembering all the times we’ve laughed so hard we’ve cried and all the times we’ve just plain cried
- Kittens and
puppies who belong to someone else
- The smell of
Hawaiian Tropic suntan oil - only Hawaiian Tropic
- Seeing my grandkids and kids praying in church
- A beautifully set table that makes my guests realize they are “china worthy”
- Old family pictures and creating memories that will be new family pictures
- Cooking with my kids in the kitchen
- Spring cleaning and throwing things away
- Discovering a new favorite book
- Being around
a joyful child regardless of who they are the child of
- Sand between my toes
- The special warmth on my skin that comes from a spring or summer sun
- The noise and messiness of a happy and busy family and the quiet and orderliness that eventually comes
- Hearing my father sing, “This is the day that the Lord has made, Let us rejoice and be glad in it”
- Watching my daughters (by birth and marriage) be mothers and my son be a father
- Watching a flower pierce through the ground toward the warm spring sun
- Kneeling in
church, praying in church, crying in church, smiling in church, singing in
church and never getting enough of the sun coming through those stained glass
windows
What makes you joyful?
Joy comes. It comes in the morning.
It comes in the middle of the day and it comes in the night. And most of
the time, it’s free for the taking if you are dedicated to being a “joy catcher”
regardless of your circumstances.
“Happy
people . . . enjoy the fundamental, often very simple things of life . . .They
savor the moment, glad to be alive, enjoying their work, their families, the
good things around them. They are adaptable; they can bend with the wind,
adjust to the changes in their times, enjoy the contest of life . . . . Their
eyes are turned outward; they are aware, compassionate. They have the capacity to love.” ~Jane Canfield
I'm thinking about a few special people in my life as I write this who are going through trials and tribulations. I'm praying and hoping that you will feel the joy that's there for you
this Easter morning and every morning because I love you to the moon and back.
Friday, December 6, 2013
The Giving Tree and Stumps
It’s December and the season of giving. It surrounds us during the holidays. Everywhere we turn, there’s a message about
giving. We throw ourselves into a frenzy at times to buy gifts for those
special people in our lives. The Salvation Army rings bells. Churches take up
special donations and schools adopt needy families. PBS gives us amazing Christmas shows only to
interrupt our viewing pleasure by asking for donations to show our appreciation
. . . well actually that happens year round, doesn’t it?
In reality, we are expected to give year round and I have to
admit that sometimes the asking gets old, unnerves me, and frequently makes me
feel like a jerk for saying no. For
example, every time I go through the line at Whole Foods, I am asked, “Would
you like to donate your bag refund to (blah,
blah, blah – the charity of THEIR choice?)” I bring my bag so that I can save trees and
avoid a bag charge. That was the purpose of starting the whole “bring your own
bag” thing so now I’m supposed to bring my bag and let you charge me so that
you can give money for a tax deduction?
That doesn’t seem right and it sometimes makes me downright nasty in the
checkout line . . . the poor cashier.
This year, our family has been the recipient of genuine
giving and perhaps being in that position is what has made some of the other
“giving” I just described so irritating to me.
My daughter’s house caught on fire in May and in July, a close family
friend sustained a spinal cord injury in an accident. In both of these cases, the true gift this
Christmas is that both of these young people are still alive. For this, we are all eternally grateful. But the outpouring of giving, financially and
emotionally, in both cases, is like nothing I’ve ever seen and to me, represents the true act of giving.
Acts like:
- prayers, prayers, and more prayers….continual prayers;
- ongoing letters and notes of support;
- sincere questions like, “what can I do?”
- collections of clothes, gift cards, anything that was needed,
- organizing anything that needed to be organized or taking care of business that was immensely time consuming,
- true concern shown in questions like, “how are they doing?” months after the initiating event.
Obviously, giving is not just financial – every day we are
asked to give in our relationships. Relationship giving is the other lesson that
has been smacking me over the head this year.
I’m going to fully disclose up front that this seems to be the harder
lesson in giving for me and I don’t really know that the answers are as clear
as with the Mother Teresa quote. How
much are we required to give in relationships before we are taken advantage of
or stripped of important needs for our own self-preservation, peace, and
joy? I’ve always been a “give til it
hurts” relationship person and it hasn’t always worked out well for me.
When my kids were little, I discovered a Shel Silverstein
book called, The Giving Tree. The parable is about a tree that loves a
little boy. Every day, the little boy
comes to the tree, eats its apples, swings from its branches, and sleeps in its
shade. The tree loves the little boy, the boy loves the tree, and they are both
happy.
But as the boy grows older, the
boy asks more of the tree, the tree continues to give but the tree isn’t happy
anymore. The happiness came from two-way giving, two-way sharing, and two-way
receiving. It was reciprocal. The boy keeps taking until the tree is cut
down to a stump. The parable is supposed
to be about the gift of giving and the serene acceptance of another’s capacity
to give (taken directly from the inside cover of book); but one day when I was
reading this book to my kids, I got stuck at the stump part. I remember veering
from the storyline and saying aloud . .
. “oh my God, I am the stump.”
That book has been on our bookshelf since 1986
but I’m not sure I ever read it to my kids again because shortly after that
“aha” day, I realized that I would never be able to serenely accept my
husband’s incapacity to give and our marriage ended in divorce.
The message of that book has rolled around in my brain for
nearly 30 years now. Most likely, we all have found ourselves in relationships
that require lopsided giving. It is
better to give than to receive, right? The challenge for me in all of these
relationships has been to maintain the tenets of my faith but change or end the
relationship before I’m the stump. The Giving Tree parable ends with the
boy, who is now an old man, coming back to the tree stump because he doesn’t
need much anymore except a place to sit.
The tree is happy and content again.
I admit that the parable of The
Giving Tree was lost on me because I just didn’t want to be the stump who
was happy to just have someone sit on me.
Sorry Shel.
So back to this year.
Would Mother Teresa have applied her words, “give until it hurts” to
relationships as well? We are called to
love and to show it by giving patience and kindness. We are called to rejoice in truth not
unrighteousness and we aren’t supposed to focus on hurts or wrongs that are
suffered. We are taught that love bears,
believes, hopes and endures all things.
We are also taught that love is not jealous or arrogant and that it
doesn’t seek its own or act unbecomingly.
What happens when you are the giving and loving one and you run into the
one who is exhibiting all those things that love and giving are not? What are
we called to do when we run into a person who will cut you down to a stump and
won’t even come back to sit on you except to gloat? And
what if that person is a member of our family? Can we walk away from those
relationships and still be a person of faith with a clear conscience?
Admittedly, my thoughts on this are sometimes murky at best because they are mired in very deep emotions. I don’t profess to have it figured out, but I try to walk through these problems with balance
and fairness. Everyday in my office, I
counsel kids who are givers and kids who are takers. I do my best to teach them the tenets of
character (and in my mind’s eye…faith) that will help them grow to be an adult
who is able to give and love in genuine ways.
But I also have to teach them how to navigate life without becoming a
stump that has nothing to give because everything has been taken from them –
tough line to walk.
It’s a fact that the world is full of givers and takers – in childhood and in adulthood. The sad reality is that there are broken people in the world who may always remain broken but I don’t believe we are called to fix them or enable them to continue being takers. For some people, giving more will not teach them to give – it only gives them the opportunity to take more. For me, this is one of the most difficult facts of life to accept because I’m a fixer at heart. I want to be surrounded by all the joys of life and I want everyone that I love to experience that as well.
Even though 2013 has been a year of some pretty significant
losses, it has also been a year of love, laughter, joy, and many opportunities
to watch God’s miracles unfold. Thank
you to everyone who has been part of the miracle and who have said yes to
giving generously. Some of those
miracles reminded me that we miss so much when we don’t keep our eyes and
hearts open to seeing and believing but
rather get bogged down in some of the sadness of life. During
this Advent season, may you be blessed with the vision of a child’s eyes, the
joy that abides in the heart of a true giver, and the peace that comes from
always trying to do your best with those you encounter.
By the way, if you google “The Giving Tree,” lots of things
come up that are kind of interesting.
First of all, this picture comes up that is NOT in the book. The thought about loving him more than she
loved herself has been added by someone to the original artwork and it wasn’t
part of Shel Silverstein’s verse.
Oddly enough, while doing this “after the thought/writing”
research for this blog, I discovered a brand new song released about a month ago by the Plain White T’s that mirrors my “stump
aha moment.” I don’t feel so badly now about missing Shel’s point of the book
in 1986….LOL – at least I’m not the only one. And I'm not the only mom who read the book to her kids. Here is a link to the video of the song (sorry for the
ad).
If all you wanted was love
Why would you use me up
Cut me down, build a boat, and sail away
When all I wanted to be was your giving tree
Settle down, build a home, and make you happy?
Is it possible to be "a giving tree" and be happy? Of course it is, but as you can see from this beautiful necklace, only if you are full and complete with your leaves, apples, branches, and roots because that's really the only time you can truly give.
If you’ve never read The Giving Tree, here is a link to a
video of the entire book, rather nicely done:
And here is a link to the online donation site for St. Jude's. I love St. Jude's and over the years, we have had some students who were recipients of their research and generosity. If you didn't know it, they don't bill children for their services so all donations go 100% to care and research. It's really a great hospital to donate to.
And you have to love the way Marlo carries on her dad's work so gallantly. Here's a video of Marlo and Jimmy Fallon and the kids at St. Jude's - precious:
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Are Fathers Really that Important?
It's the day before Father's Day and I have been so consumed with helping my first-born get back on her feet and then getting my other 750 children (who in real life belong to someone else) out the door for summer vacation, that I have not had time to buy a Father's Day card for any of the fathers whom I hold dear. So I guess at this point, other than Fed Ex, what choice do I have but to blog.
I am the mother of three
amazing adult children. We have had our difficult years. There have
been years when I knew not one of them really wanted to honor me on Mother's
Day because in the moment, they actually wanted to give me the title "Bitch
of the Year and Why Don't You Get Out of my Business." To them, and to
others who viewed me from the outside, I probably appeared to be a mom who
really didn't think fathers were important but that is so far from the truth.
I knew as I was raising my children alone how important fathers were but
I often was forced to describe my parenting experience as dragging my kids up a
very steep mountain with their birth father at the top, throwing boulders down
at us. For whatever reasons or circumstances, I'm sad to say that as a
mom, I was frequently disappointed with the quality of fathering that my
children got from the one man who was supposed to be their nurturer, protector
and their knight in shining armor, especially my girls. And one of the
reasons was most likely because of the high expectations I had thanks to my own
knight in shining armor, my father.
My father was the one
who got all the love and honor and respect and CREDIT from a little girl even
when he might not have deserved it. My poor mother who really did most of
the work of raising us, frequently was standing there in the dust while he
strolled in as the hero. But in the eyes of this little girl, he did
deserve it. He was handsome, strong, smart, funny, silly, wise, and I
would jump through any hoop for his attention. He had his flaws but it
was all outweighed by those times that he stopped to hug me or call me punkin'
or teach me how to do something. He was my encourager. He set the
highest standards for me in every area of existence and if I disappointed him,
it was like a knife to my heart.
He transferred many
gifts and talents to me and I see them living on today in my children.
These are some of the things he modeled for me when I was a little girl.
- He could always talk to anyone and no one was a stranger. He had the gift of gab and blarney as my Scots-Irish grandmother said. We sat at a restaurant table many times without my father because he was walking around the room saying hello to everyone - not that he knew everyone, but he made new friends and acquaintances everywhere. My mother's consistent statement at a restaurant was always, "Where's your dad?"
- He was a writer and an amazing improv speaker. He
spoke in front of the church and 40+ years worth of middle school students
and never had a moment where he looked nervous.
- He was a helper. He was the original Good Samaritan and he would stop and help anyone along the road who
looked like they might have qualified for the verse in Matthew that says,
" whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters
of mine, you did for me."
- He genuinely cared about people and I always watched him asking more questions than he did telling people about himself. Even in his 80s, he still works with kids at the juvenile delinquency facility in our hometown. He told me not long ago, "there are no juvenile delinquents, only delinquent parents." He has always been appalled at people who don't take parenting seriously.
- He loved traveling and discovering new things. We
had the most fantastic family vacations every year that any kid could
want. He wasn't afraid to take the "scenic routes" even
though my mother was afraid of two-lane highways. And there was
usually some far away family member that was included in our trip.
Sunday mornings, no matter where we were, included church.
- He was a singer and loved music. He was always in
the church choir and many of those family vacations involved listening to
him sing "This Is My Father's World" (over and over again). He
(and my mother) provided me with lessons on the piano, the organ, the
accordion, the guitar and then set up impromptu recitals whenever friends
and family arrived. He always encouraged me and my best friend,
Jayne, to sing in church - until we started rewriting the lyrics to
popular music. "Listen, Why Don't You Listen," seemed to
curbed his enthusiasm for our talent shows in church....LOL.
- He played and romped with us. I'm sure he has
some back problems today, simply because of the horse back rides we
insisted on as children.
- He was a daredevil and a bit impulsive. I remember
seeing him swing on the rafters of a barn when I was in college and the
next words out of his mouth were, "don't you dare tell your
mother."
- He read, usually religious books and his Bible, and he
prayed. My dad is one of the most eloquent prayer givers I know.
His prayers are sincere and instructional and as a little girl, I
understood humbling yourself before God, simply because of my dad.
Most of these things,
with the exception of the last, made my mother really mad and yet we knew that
these things endeared him to her just as they did to me and my siblings.
When I was three, my
father wrote a short essay for a college class entitled A Life with Value.
He really had it figured out when I was a little girl, and his
dedication to fathering me has rarely disappointed me. He wrote:
"In considering
some of the things that make my life good to live, I find it difficult to limit
to a few specific points. However, if I consider first things first, I
cannot overlook my happy childhood and family relationships. To me, there
could be no more ideal childhood than growing up with four brothers on a farm.
Although we suffered from many fears and material wants, I can see that
it may have been good for all of us. A part of this happy life was the
role of the church and Sunday School which is now an essential part of all our
lives. To bring this up to my present day living is of course my own little
family. I could never before have been made to believe that a little
curly-haired girl would have taken so big a place in my life and heart as that
of our three-year-old daughter. Parents who set out thoughtfully to
guide a child toward useful ways of living and toward ever deepening and
enriching values, have embarked on a great adventure. Nothing could be
more rewarding."
So back to my original
question . . . are fathers really that important? In today's
world, you hear so many answers and excuses to this question. From a
little girl who had one of the greatest and a mom who climbed the mountain
dodging the boulders, my opinion is that they are....if they figure out their own importance early on as
mine did. But if a father doesn't recognize the true importance of his role of
leading, guiding, and modeling early in his children's lives, so much is lost.
They are the first man a little girl falls in love with. They are the
role models that little boys want to grow up to be. They are something that
moms cannot be no matter how hard they try. What an amazing job if a
father chooses to do it.
So this Father's Day, I
want to honor some very special fathers in my life who do understand their
importance and who take their jobs seriously.
- To my own father, Richard Wyant: I could say thank you for being my father a million
times over and it would never express what is in my heart. Thank you
for taking on the "adventure" and for being so serious about
it. I am so blessed and my life has been so enriched. Whether
you realize it or not, you are so woven into the tapestry that is me, that
I often don't know where you end and I start.
 |
| A Dad's tenderness with his first-born |
 |
| Richard and Betty Wyant with the curly-haired girl. |
 |
| My dad always told me, "he who laughs, lasts" and so this is one of my favorite pictures. It embodies the "fun" that my dad has always had with kids. Here, he and Logan are yucking it up about something that was probably very silly in content but created a great grandfather/grandson moment. |
- To my husband, Greg Jansen: You are the father to my children that I dreamed of. You stepped in at the most difficult time of their lives, the teen years, and you earned your stripes. You wished that you would have known what it was like to raise twins with me and darn it if God didn't grant you your wish! You are the most amazing grandfather and you are living proof that DNA frequently has nothing to do with being a father or grandfather.
 |
| BopBop with Lulu |
 |
| BopBop and Logan rowing in Central Park |
 |
| The picture says it all. |
- To our son, Tyson Wyant: One of my biggest joys in life is watching you as you father Alexander and Adaryn. When you were a little boy, you told me that you weren’t sure you really wanted to be a father (this was after Torie broke up with you because of your disagreement on the number of children you should have.) I’m so happy that you took my advice on this matter. You are an amazing father. You are calm, assured, strong, funny, consistent, and dedicated. But most of all, you are a man of faith and you are teaching your children daily about the most important father of all. I’m so proud of you and of the way you have grown and matured into someone who can be counted on for the most important things in life.
 |
| On the porch swing, just chillin' with Xander |
 |
| Two dads enjoying the cousin love |
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| Adaryn already knows her Papa is the best |
- To my brother, Andrew: You are the poster boy for second chances. You owe Jill a debt of gratitude for much of the parenting that happened while you were in med school and after because you have some amazing children in Levi, Haviland and Zoe. Now, you can truly be proud because you have stepped up to the plate and are a serious dad. You are an amazing example of the restorative powers of our heavenly father – he can build so much from the ground up. I am so proud of you and the family you have created with Krystal.
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| Andy and Jude |
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| Andy with two of his girls |
· To my sons-in-law, Don Chenault and Matthew
Taylor: I’m so proud of you both. Don, you made a conscious decision to be a father
to that first set of twins and Matt, becoming a father was probably the
farthest thing from your mind at the time, but look at how both of you have
become amazing fathers and parenting partners.
I know that you both are supportive of my daughters and that this
support and respect will go far as your children grow to adulthood. One of the most important things a father can
give his children is respect for their mother and I see this in your
relationships. Thank you for that and so
much more. I love you both.
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| New Daddy, Matt with Amelie |
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| Matt and Amie at the Lake |
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| Don with the boys |
·
To our co-grandparent in Michigan, Gary Zmuda: I’ve
known from the first time you set foot in my KinderCare office with your darling little
Natalie on your knee until the day we watched our children unite in marriage,
that you took your vocation as a father most seriously. How blessed we are to have known each other
for such a long time. Thank you for
raising such an amazing daughter and mother to our grandchildren. Thank you for welcoming our son into the
Zmuda family. But most of all, thank you for the love, care and “grandparent
awe” that you bestow on our little Buster and Birdie on such a regular
basis. Greg and I know that you are
there when we can not be and that when you hug them, you are hugging them for
us too. That’s pretty rare and such a
gift.
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| The wonder of childhood |
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To our other
co-grandparent in Atlanta, Bill Chenault:
Bill, because of the recent house fire, I’ve was reminded of what a
constant presence and protector you have been for our daughter over the years
since she moved to Atlanta. I’m so
thankful for the love and care and surefootedness you provide for her and our
grandchildren. Knowing that they are all
cared for so tenderly makes being away from them all just a little easier.
These are all important
fathers . . . not just because they are in my family but because they have as
my father said, “set out thoughtfully to guide a child.” They have embraced the adventure and they
show up everyday. I'm thankful for you all as are the children you father. My prayer is that all fathers everywhere discover their importance and sign up for the adventure. Happy Father’s Day!
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