At this time my other half, the one who, without, I would not be a mother, the one who, with my *assistance* can celebrate today by holding his offspring
-The arrows in the hand of this warrior. (Psalm127:4)-
he is celebrating his special day away from us, at the movies.
Before you riot and tell stories of the fathers you know who are doing things differently (i.e. they are with their children on father's Day), let me confess that, although I do wish he was home for my sake, I am glad he is not, for his sake.
Because this is a special day to celebrate him, and he needed a break from labor...and sometimes being home, with a tired wife, messy house, and three hyper children, is labor intensive.
After church I took the boys to a birthday at a farm. There was a pony ride and a tractor-pulled hay ride and bobbing for apples. The whole nines. It was well-crafted and fun.
It was also stinky. Cows stink. I am glad I am not a farmer...glad I am not married to one, either.
But I can appreciate the farmers that much more, because they get dirty, daily, and they do it for the sake of others.
No farmers, No Food.
I get that.So I don't take his choice to be at the theater personally. It was while the boys and I were gone that he left, not once we returned, which, admittedly, makes writing this so much easier. He also volunteered to come back home, if that was what I wanted. I assured him that I wanted him to have fun. Enjoy himself. THAT is the goal of the day.
Today is Big Strong Man's first Father's Day without his earthly father. Papa Tom passed away a few months shy of a year ago. Although we haven't talked about it, I have thought about it continually throughout the course of today, wondering how B.S.M. and his sister feel about today. I should call her.... As of writing this, I haven't mentioned my curiosity to my husband. Maybe it is better if he says something first.
The theater was not a whim or an afterthought. It was strategic. It was an ode to B.S.M.'s father, whether B.S.M. realizes it or not. A memorandum. This was one of Tom's love-language: the movie theater.
Christmas. Birthdays. Boredom. The movies had been an escape B.S.M. and his father had made many times in three-plus decades.
It is fitting that Big Strong Man is at the theaters, alone, on Father's Day. You may argue that he is not actually alone at all...if you're sentimental, or overtly religious...or something of the sort.
He will be home in about another hour...not that I am counting. I do miss him, though. Even the days I am mad as I can be at him, I love his presence.
It makes me think of Jesus. No, Big Strong Man is certainly not Jesus. I think you already knew that.
It is the delight of being in his presence, though. The same delight I find in Jesus, only, with Jesus, it's magnified. So long as he is home, I feel calmer. When I see him, it is an instant incessant heartbeat-thing that starts in me. Ironically, when I am frustrated and annoyed at him, I get a similar heartbeat-thing but directed in a different manner, so figure that out....
Our sons made crafts at church for their Father. I am posting pictures so you can see their innocence and so that you can copy this cool craft idea which was not my own, but a good one!
I am trying not to put too many holes in our walls since we are still renting, so I was trying to figure out a way to be creative and showcase these. I decided on stringing a line between the two windows in our bedroom and creating somewhere to hang these from. The two windows happen to be on each side of our bed, so it looks like a banner celebrating Big Strong Man all year long and it's erected above our headboard...or where a headboard would be if we had one. Maybe we can work on that...Regardless, it' cute. The banner.
yours,
No comments:
Post a Comment