To my Husband,
Today is father’s day, and in a lot of ways it will be a day just like any other. You will be woken too early by the wild enthusiasm of a toddler, you will be asked to find Lego pieces as though life depends on it and your baby girl will coo at you in the voice she’s just beginning to find.
This day may not feel different, but I want to tell you why this day, and all the others that you’re in our lives, is exceptional.
Our boys watch you, more than you know. They watch your dedication to your work, they watch you do the dishes and see you dance with me in the kitchen. They see you choose kindness even when you’re angry, and patience even when you feel frayed. Those moments when you make them the centre of your world? That builds them up. The games when they laugh so much they need to catch their breath? That’s more precious than any toy they could own. They’re learning how to be men from every day they spend with you.
Your actions teach them in ways words never could.
Sometimes they act up for you. They shout too loud, they dig their heels in, they argue just because. I know that feels heavy at times, so I want to remind you something. To those two little boys the world seems enormous. There is so much they don’t understand, so much they can’t control. They’re strong boys, your sons, just like their Dad, and they can’t always find a place for their strength in that big world just yet. So they turn to you and they let it out like a breath they’ve been holding. Because you’re their safe place, Daddy, and knowing that you’ll love them no matter what gives them wings.
A lot of things might feel unremarkable now, but those moments are making something. The back scratches before bed, the games of monster trucks on the living room floor and the cuddles that scare away bad dreams. You’re weaving them a childhood from those moments, and that’s remarkable indeed.
They’ll grow up to be men one day and pass on traditions you didn’t even know you shared with them. They’ll tell their children jokes you told them in passing, and remember stories you made up that made them laugh. They’ll remember how comforting your hugs felt, and be determined to give their children the same.
They’re learning family from you.
Your daughter is little now, only eight weeks old. She knows you as warm arms, the gentle smell of cologne and a prickly beard. She knows your smile and funny faces and is just beginning to realize what “Daddy” means. Before you know it her head wont fit in your palm quite so easily and her hand wont wrap so neatly around one finger. Her laugh will be louder, her smile toothy and she’ll run at you like a cyclone when you get home of an afternoon, just like her brothers, her face lighting up just like theirs do.
Yes, in a lot of ways today will feel normal, but I want you to know that fatherhood is anything but. Thank you for giving our kids ‘Daddy’.
You are loved.