Erin’s husband and daughter
Photo by Erin Stewart.
Father’s Day never gets as much hype as Mother’s Day, but three fathers in my life have shown me just how deep – and singular – that fatherly love can be.
1. My grandfather – My grandfather and grandmother adopted a lively, loving 2-year-old girl when their family was still young. She knew she belonged to them, even announcing one day that my grandfather could never get rid of her because they were sealed together and he was stuck with her forever.
The truth of her youngster wisdom rang true when that little cowgirl passed away 10 years later of leukemia.
But she was right – his love didn’t end and neither did their bond. My grandfather taught me that a father’s love crosses not only bloodlines, but also earthly limits.
2. My father – I was your typical teenager growing up: terse, selfish and convinced my parents were the dumbest people on the planet. I rarely said the words “I love you.”
But when I went off to college and grew out of my teenage funk, he was there – waiting. He had always been there with an outstretched hand. So from my father I’ve learned that a father’s love is constant and steady – no matter how many doors you slam in his face.
3. My husband – There’s just something unique about a daddy.
He’s the guy who will flip our daughter upside down, let her eat strawberries from the yard without washing them and doesn’t care if her hair isn’t cute.
As I watch them together, I’ve learned that a father’s love is unique and irreplaceable.
That quality was there from the beginning moments in the delivery room when his voice was the only thing that could calm our daughter.
She knew that voice. She knew him. He was Dad.
And if there’s one thing my husband, my dad and my grandfather have all taught me, it’s that it takes a special kind of father to truly be a dad.