Today's a day to honor our fathers.
Consider our dads.
Think of our daddies.
Papa.
What name do you use?
What's your favorite memory from childhood?
Did you have a dad who took your hand
as you took your first steps?
Always encouraging you to go out into the world?
Yet available should you take a tumble?
Maybe you have the kind of pop who
took your first-born for a walk?
Did you have a daddy who read to you before bed?
Offering the whole world just inside your head?
How about the kind of PopPop that reads to his
great-grand WonderKids?
The kind of daddy who believes reading is always in style?
No matter the generation.....
Always the right fit: a good book.
Do you have the kind of pops who welcomes a hug?
The kind of daddy that lets you snuggle on his shoulder?
One that has time to listen to your concerns?
I told you a lot about my dad, back on the occasion of his birthday,
the day that he shares with Martin Luther King, Jr.
I told you how he has always stood up for every person's worth.
Our trellis is in place now up here in our northern hiatus.
My daddy's carved birds now have a place of honor.
They sing to the newly climbing clematis.
Did your daddy whittle and whistle?
Did he carve out time for you?
My daddy shapes words and worth and wood.
Was your childhood filled with singing?
Old hymns. Pipe organs. Choirs in robes?
Guitars and tambourines?
I'm one lucky camper.
Literally.
Those are my memories --
the fishing, the tent, soggy sleeping bags and all.
Campfires with s'mores, a lantern for card games.
The cross country adventures.
The stories: trail seven of Fiedler family lore.
I owe my sense of appreciation of nature's breath-taking beauty to dad.
He served as an example of setting your sails --
whatever the conditions.
I learned by example.
Were you as fortunate?
He taught me to appreciate details....
to catch the glimmers.
To notice.
To focus.
To concentrate.
To imagine.
I think that's where my delight in the sparkle originates.
Today we're literally spread round the world.
From Portugal to Florida and on to Wisconsin.
Our memories are woven like fabric.
The fabric of family.
-- Debbie --
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