Fathers

This past weekend was Father's Day. We were invited off to Geneva Lake to spend the afternoon with my brother and his family as they rented a home for a week on the lake. Driving and hour and half each way was likely not Steve's idea of how he wished to spend his father's day. I felt bad, but felt this event was a nice offer and we needed to get away, even if it was for the day.

Steve was given the mundane presents of sports socks, a lunch box and a new cover for his grill - and the extra special surprises of a pencil holder with pencils from Zach and a coupon book from Sophia. The coupons included one for a hug and one for helping with the dishes (although she mentioned that she would need help with the dishes.) These little surprises put a smile on my face. I realized there are no gifts great enough for Steve.

I don't really talk too much about our relationship. It is strained for sure. But I know as much as it is strained, he is doing the best he can, and it actually is quite a lot. Steve is a pretty stoic guy. He does not throw compliments around, he doesn't act silly, he doesn't recount his childhood. What he does - he keeps us first in his thoughts and his deeds. He works his butt off at his job to make sure he can provide for us and just last week he received yet another award for his commitment to his work. At this point, he has a wall of them. For all his hard work and effort at his job, he has still managed to be a big part of our family. He does a good chunk of the cooking and is home nearly every night before the kids go to bed. He brings Zach to school, takes Sophia to soccer practice, and occasionally grocery shops.

I know that my heart is that of a mother, and I feel the urge to foster and grow my children. I also know that a father's heart is different, and the need to protect, provide and strengthen is on his shoulders. The world can be cruel, and I am sure that is one of the biggest concerns that Steve has, people being cruel to his children. Indeed, before we ever had children, let alone one with a disability, Steve was concerned about this. Steve and I are geeky sensitive types. This pretty much can make you a loser in a world where we have witnessed people laugh at other peoples pain, insecurities, weaknesses, failures. Steve is an incredibly capable person. He makes things happen that others can't. He is very smart, hardworking, and caring. I have always felt he could accomplish great things with this eclectic combination and he has. Steve is not the huggy touchy type, he doesn't say a lot, but he is hugely demonstrative in his commitment to his family and his obligations as a father.

Both of our fathers are no longer with us. This is hard for us. No one to show us how to swap out a faucet, play ball with the kids, all those grandfathery sort of things. I am sure Steve misses his Dad as much as I miss mine. We sure could use them. Sophia has begun to ask a lot of questions about her grandfathers. I can speak only for my Dad when I say that he sure would have gotten a kick out of her. And she sure has missed out on meeting a terrific guy.

I lost another father in my life about 2 years ago. The priest that married Steve and I was my childhood priest. He was very special to me and many others. When I lost my Dad, Father Champlin's sermons took the place of the words of wisdom my father once delivered. Steve enjoyed him as much as I did. I remember one of father's sermons where he asked people what a heart looked like. Some gave the symbolic description of red symmetrical shape, others thought of the more physical muscle with valves and ventricles. Father Champlin held up another representation; a donut. He said that the desire for love is filled through our relationships to others, and fills the donut and tightens that hole. We pursue closing that hole with friendships, marriage, and children. As much as we love others, and are loved by others, that hole never closes. He went on to explain that the hole can only be filled with our relationship to the Divine. When he died, that hole opened up a bit.

And last night, I said my farewells to yet another father. Father Michael, the priest who said the prayer service for Zach, will be leaving for a new parish where he will have his first chance at pastorship. He had dinner with us last evening. This has been pretty difficult for me as I am loosing my spiritual advisor through this journey. I also feel like Team Zach is down one right now.

I am grateful to each of these men and their contributions to our family. I am sad at the losses endured when they went away, yet grateful that they were once in our lives. I hope each of these men know what they mean to us. I hope that Steve knows that our lives are better because of his dedication to us and we are so happy to have him as the rock in our foundation.