For the past week, I knew I wanted to write a column about dads, given that this weekend is Father’s Day. I needed some inspiration to get me in the right mindset. I knew it would happen, I just wasn’t sure when.
Then on Saturday night, as I was sitting at my computer, I heard my five-year-old venture out of his bedroom after a long day of playing soccer. For no reason at all, Gavin walked up to his daddy, and said, “Dad, I love you more than mom.” From down the hall, I smiled to myself.
The funny thing is that whenever Gavin says things like this, it really does make my heart smile. I know he loves me, I’m his mom, and he assures me all the time that I am second on his list. When I approached him the next morning about what he said, he quite casually explained that he just loves daddy “Sixty-six hundred” and although I forget the number he put on his love for me, I do remember it was quite a bit more than the 61 he gave his little brother, Brodie.
Ever since he was old enough to distinguish between me as a food source and me as a real person, Gavin has been a daddy’s boy. Even as I write this column, they are sitting on the couch together playing video games. To Gavin, his daddy is probably the most important person in his world, and I can see why.
Like most great dads (and I’m sure that is nearly all of them) my husband always puts our boys first. He was amazing with them as newborns, and still often lets me sleep when one of them decides to wake up early or stay up late. He plays with them and worries about them like crazy when they aren’t feeling well.
And with Gavin looking up to his dad in the way he does, it can only mean that he too will develop the same caring characteristics as he gets older.
Now, I really shouldn’t leave my own dad out of this. As the only girl in a family of four kids, I was probably favoured a little bit when it came to my dad. There was no way I couldn’t be daddy’s girl, and I probably found ways to use that to my advantage.
My dad (again, like most great dads) worked hard for his family. As a child, I remember him working long hours, whether it was driving a truck, or working out in the field. And in the end, I know it was because he loves his family and works hard for us. He was always there when it counted, whether it was taking us camping for soccer tournaments or making us French toast after church on Sundays.
I think the only thing that would compete with his family was mowing the lawn. Even now, no weekend plans can happen unless he is happy with his yard, which again speaks to his work ethic, a trait I often feel I may have inherited.
So whether you are young or old, have one, two or more people in your life you consider a great father (I know I could make this column much longer with the other important fathers in my life), remember to celebrate them this weekend.
