On Father’s Day Abe and I were both so tired and sore from cross-fit and gardening that we both basically hobbled the entire day. Lydia and Mary were enthusiastic enough to make up for my inability to do much beside apologize profusely for not being more festive. Mary gave Abe the t-shirt she made for him with Nana’s help. The t-shirt shrank in the wash so when Abe put it on it was basically a belly shirt.
Lydia baked Abe a cake entirely by herself. Okay, our neighbor Liberty helped her, but for the most part there were no adults present during the cake baking/assembly process.
I did make Abe a breakfast of hummus and avocado toast, a fruit and granola acai bowl, and eggs. For dinner we had salmon, minted peas, coconut rice, and lots of fruit.
After dinner we sat outside for hours and hours visiting with our neighbors while the kids ran around. Abe also started trying to clean off the sidewalk, which is full of mud from our gardening efforts.
I was so sore and tired that I did not even give Abe a card yesterday. So in lieu of that…
Abe is the best dad I could possibly imagine for my kids! I feel like pinching myself every day that I wake up and remember I am married to him and that my kids get him for their father. Lately I have often wondered how heaven could possibly be better or even different than being married to and parenting with Abe. He is so giving, so kind, so funny, so playful, so hard working, so intelligent, so intentional, and SO wise. Also, when I am being too hard on the kids, he has this way of supporting their cause while still making me feel secure and supported.
For example, after dinner I was going to make the older girls watch one hour of conference talks and write essays because of their church behavior, but Abe rescued them. He reminded me that we had just studied the atonement over dinner and had just discussed the idea of second chances. He then paused until I took the bait and said the girls could have a second chance (even though this is more like a third chance, but that’s missing the point entirely, I guess!).
And even though he could barely move, he spent a long time scootering around the cul-de-sac with Clarissa. Every time he stopped she would plaintively say, “More,” and Abe would get back on and keep going. And because he is awesome, he forgot he was in pain and had so much fun while he was doing it. (I have a hard time forgetting I am in physical pain, and I am very impressed that Abe’s love of life and fun can override the pain so quickly.)
Abe is beloved by all of his children, near-worshiped by me, and deeply respected, admired and loved by our friends and community. On Father’s Day he also taught a beautiful lesson in church. Even though I wasn’t there, I made him tell me everything he said, and he kindly filled me in. Abe does a perfect job walking that line in church of saying things that sound orthodox enough to be trustworthy yet challenging enough to make people pause and question. Every time he makes a comment, people come up to him after church and thank him. And the people who can’t wait in line to thank him text me and tell me to thank him for speaking up.
We all adore you, Abe. Happy Father’s Day!