I stood in the greeting card aisle at Albertson's early on Sunday morning, tears streaming down my yet unwashed face. Grace and I had left the boys sleeping in bed and jetted across town to pick up breakfast foods and pictures I had printed at Rite Aid. It seemed that this Father's Day hit with more significance than year's past.
Maybe it is because last year we were separated, and this year we are so very together, all of us.
Maybe because Grace was so excited, at the other end of the aisle, that they had water balloons and "can we please, please, please get them for Papa for Father's Day?"
Maybe because of how very deeply I feel now that our family is complete, that Rhys' birth last month really cemented our family as a family.
Those tears felt good. They felt like a surrendering relief, as I recognized how far we have come and how much we have grown. Ahh. We are here. We grew up a little. We are where we said we wanted to go.
I thank you. Your commitment to me and us and these beautiful kids is delicious. You are a poem. You are my poem. I love you.
Happy Father's Day to the best father of all.