Let me tell you a little story about our Father’s Day. Ethan and I have never been one to give gifts. I guess it is neither of our love languages. We speak of occassions, celebrate anniversaries with nice dinners, and enjoy cakes on our birthdays. So Mother’s and Father’s Day have not been much different. Mother’s Day this year fell on a treatment weekend for me. As I recall, I spent the day… No…. it was an off weekend. It should have been a good day. But I was sick, most likely from low white blood counts, and had a simple cold turn into a long day of rest. I slept the entire day. And if Ethan had come in the morning and said, “honey, we are giving you the day off. Here is breakfast and stay in your room all day and rest…” that would have been awesome. But it was more of “you don’t need to do anything today because your 12 naps today seem like a necessity.”
So today. Father’s Day. We all made Daddy a card. We went to church. We offered him lunch of his choice, but Cracker Barrel was incredibly crowded. So we opted for home. I had intended if nothing else, to give him a day off. (Mainly, because that is what I would like.) So he tried to do some dishes and I sent him away to watch soccer and relax on the couch. (Yeah, me) So, I did the mundane task of unloading the dishwasher only to fill it back up with the dishes in the sink. I attempted to get lunch made for the girls, but lost my temper in the process and broke a dish. Megan asked me, “why did you break it?” I told her that it just broke. Then later she heard Ethan ask, ” Did you get mad or did it just break?” I admitted, “I was mad.” I hear Megan in her sweet voice, “soooo, that’s why you broke it.”
So lunch is underway. Everyone is eating or not eating (like usual). Audrey is throwing stuff off her highchair. Megan is twisting and turning in her chair because she chose to not sit in her booster. And helpful Alyssa, is getting up and down “helping” Audrey with all the stuff she is throwing off. I suppose the kicker was when Audrey continued to bang her hands on the tray in a fit of rage. When that didn’t work, started to grab her hair and pull. Again. I slid my chair back in anger, slapped her in on the hand and said NO. Again. I threw her tray on the counter, pulled her out of her chair and promptly took her to bed. (I did of course hug and kiss her on the way, telling her I was sorry her mommy got so mad. Rocked her for a minute, then she took a nap. I just can’t stay mad at that girl.) Then I crawled into my bed where I proceeded to take a 3 hour nap. Awesome, huh?
So the great part of this story is the man behind this family. He didn’t complain. He didn’t question why I was in bed. He came to check on me, gave me a hug (few tickles) and left. In and out of cycles, I noticed how quiet the house was. But it was not till I finally got out of bed that I noticed what was going on. He had taken Alyssa and Megan to the store to pick up milk (I never have milk) and the ingredients to make my favorite dinner. Not his…. mine. Then they had gone to Lowes. Oh, because before we sat down to eat, I was yelling out the window at the flowers that continue to wilt. Our saying is now: If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the garden. Just the sight of the wilting flowers was pushing me over the edge. So, he goes to Lowes, and spends who knows how much on flowers. Not to replace those in the corner, something is seriously wrong with the water, sun and ground combination, but to make the front of the house look pretty. And as I type this, he is outside washing my car. He knows the way to make this woman happy.
So my story today could be of my father. A man I admire. A man I respect. A man who taught me to pray. A man who through his failures has become more of a father to me than he might imagine. A man who never gives up. A man who loves his family and the Lord.
But today is about my husband. A man who is tired just like me. A man who is exhausted from work. A man who is exhausted from his wife’s illness. A man who needs his downtime on the weekend. But a man who knows how to step up. A man who can put aside a restful day meant to serve him to instead serve his wife. I love you, Ethan. Thank you for continue to take care of us all when I fall miserably behind.
