The gravel crunches as his truck pulls in the driveway. “He’s here!” my oldest squeals in delight. Four kids dive into their hiding places and shush each other incessantly. When the key turns in the lock, I’m sure he hears the two that are giggling from their places. But he’s fully prepared with his surprised face when our kids jump out to scare him.

 

I thought about waxing poetic on the beauty of fatherhood–It’s truly a role that shapes our children and deserves the accolades. Also, these father figures who pour their hearts into their families deserve so much respect. So, dear reader, you can use your brilliant mind and insert a touching thought about fatherhood that means something special to you. I trust that you’ve got several of those tucked away somewhere. And while you’re sifting through the memory files in your brain, I’m going to pull up a couple of kitchen chairs for us, so we can get a little personal.

For me, thoughts of fatherhood are inevitably intertwined with the father of my kids. When they were little, they always got so excited for him to come home. And he used to instigate elaborate games of hide and seek. Now that they’re all teenagers, their excitement is reserved for a host of other things, but the mood of our home still shifts a bit when dad walks in the door. He’s our rock, and he brings with him an added measure of peace and dependability. We do occasionally still get a game of hide-and-seek going. It’s one little thing out of hundreds, but it says so much about the kind of father he has always chosen to be. 

One frosty evening in December a few years back, I was so sick–puking my guts out if you will. (I know… it’s a massive overshare, but that’s what the kitchen chairs are for, right? Stick with me here.) Both of our daughters came down with fevers and, being the concerned mom, I made my way to their beds to soothe them. They both just wanted their dad. When I was a kid, if I was hurt or sick, I only wanted my mom. So when my girls preferred their dad’s care, it almost offended my feelings. Until I realized for the millionth time how lucky they are, to have a genuinely great father in their home. (And I, too, felt lucky because I went back to bed.) That man stayed up all night going from one sick bed to another, holding back hair, cleaning up vomit, refilling water, changing sheets, and refreshing cool washcloths for foreheads as all of us had the worst case of the flu we’ve ever experienced.

It’s true that not all dads are quite this stellar, but I want to honor the fact that so many of them are. These fathers are pivotal to their children’s confidence and growth. These men are the rock of so many families. 

We never truly know what kind of parent we’re going to be until we get the unparalleled  experience of bringing home a kid and fumbling through figuring out how to raise it into a whole person. This post is a tribute to the man who has shown up day after day for his family, for almost twenty years now. I wouldn’t want to fumble through it, or play hide and seek, with anyone else. Happy Father’s day.

By AJ Blanch

AJ Blanch is an author who writes fantasy romance. Buy her books at  www.ajblanch.com or wherever books are sold.

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Photographer: Tyra Marie Photography