I am a lucky man. I have an outstanding father who has been there for all of my 33 years. These days, Father’s Day mean more to me than they used to, but not in just the I’m-getting-older-so-holidays-mean-more kind of way. Father’s Day mean more now because it has been revealed to me over the past couple of years that holding the title of Father means stepping up to the plate when it matters most.
When it means sacrificing yourself so that your child can have a better life, so that they can come to appreciate what this means and the do the same for their children.
There are simply too many fathers out there who put themselves first, leaving broken children who spend the rest of their lives trying to fill that void. There are too many fathers who work and work and work, and when they turn around, their children are too old to reach.
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This Mrs. Betty Christopher, whom I lived across the street from growing up. She is definitely one of the sweetest women I have ever known. I had a chance to catch up with her when I went home for Mother’s Day a few weeks ago. She was busy knitting, but took a few minutes off to spend a little with me (but not before I could take a few photographs!).