Thursday, Jan. 21st
I took a friend to an appointment. I would have otherwise been by her side for the entirety, but thanks to Covid, she had to walk through it alone. I sat in the car and looked at mother-of-the-groom dresses. Like, what even!!!!!!
Friday, Jan. 22nd
Lunch date with Colombo. Not as sexy or romantic as it sounds. It was Day 3 of feeling disconnected, so we sat down together to talk through things. Which we did successfully. Had to laugh at the Covid ridiculousness. Apparently we don't care about the planet anymore. ?? Salt, pepper, parmesan, and crushed red pepper all in individual containers delivered by the servers bare hand, BUT the olive oil is totally safe to be served normally. All the eye rolls.
Dear Papa,
Happy birthday. I’m grateful we could gather today to give honor where honor is due. You are certainly easy to celebrate!
It’s hard to believe you’ve been in my life longer than you haven’t. From the very first time we met, you welcomed me with open arms and have supported your son’s love for me. Even when it was crazy and made no sense for us to be together at 19, still you took the approach of love and support rather than criticism and rules.
I admire that about you. From every story I’ve heard and everything I’ve experienced first-hand, you always seek to preserve relationship. More than being right. More than dollars. More than broken rules or bruised egos, and even in some cases, blatant betrayal, you have always sought the higher road.
I also appreciate your generosity. You have always been a giver, never expecting anything in return or keeping score.
I can’t think of a better Dad and mentor and role model for my husband. He has NEVER wavered in the knowledge of your love for him, and I know that that has indelibly marked him. Part of the reason Colombo and I are still together, is because he’s always seen a mom who stays with his dad and a dad who stays with his mom. Even when it’s hard, unfair, ugly, and filled with hurt. Each of you has stayed.
I can’t think of a better Papa for my kids. They each have settled into their perfectly-fit spot in your heart and you have beautifully made each one to feel cherished and loved. You’ve not only “said” I love you, but you always show up. Never missing an event or a game. They always know they can glance to the sidelines and see you there.
Over 25 years, I’ve seen you in many roles. I’ve seen you on stage in coliseums filled with people, I’ve seen you drive all.the.miles to show your love- to deliver brownies to Nick in college, to chase Jonathan’s games all over the U.S., to build dreams with couples in their living rooms, to visit aging parents. I’ve seen you quiet in a corner, reading the room, taking it in. I’ve seen you capture an audience. I’ve seen you host from the back of the boat.
To be sure, there’s been much opportunity to admire you and gain respect for you. But in the last 5 or so years- I have sensed a shift. In short, I guess I could say, “You’re getting soft in your old age”, but that wouldn’t be fair. First, I don’t consider you old at all and am so grateful for your work and determination to stay young and fit. Secondly, I don’t think it’s that your getting soft, rather, you’re getting better with time. You’re quick with a word of wisdom, ready with your expressions of love, and never delay in lending a helping hand.
Never criticism, only encouragement. That’s who you are.
I gained a whole new level of respect for you when you started working in East Windsor. It wasn’t just because it was our church (though I’m grateful for that) or that my family will directly be affected in their faith walks because of your work (whether you thought that through or not, I’m unsure), but more because in some ways, it felt like you traded the podium for the trowel and even when NO ONE WAS THERE to see the hours and weeks and months of your effort and craftsmanship, you showed up. You always do. I consider that work one of the most selfless acts I know of. You’ll never get the deserved recognition or anything in return, but from my perspective, I saw new life breathed into you. I saw you lose 5 years of age and be excited about the cause. If it hasn’t been sufficiently expressed, THANK YOU.
Continuing with this sort new leaf or reevaluating or whatever term fits best, I’ve appreciated seeing your faith become even stronger. You and Ninny continue to be a strong example of God, family, country; for standing up for what you believe in and for walking out what is truly important.
Perhaps the moment I have loved most about you, though, came this past August, sitting out on the patio next door when you were telling Trevor the story about when you were his age. I don’t recall having heard that story before. My mama heart was done. Totally buckled by the idea of a 14 year old kid- a child- being brave enough to get on that bus and crying himself to sleep that night.
It gave me a new appreciation for all that you’ve overcome. But that’s who you are- you are a line-drawing-in-the-sand guy.
I will not live in poverty.
I will not choose a life of drinking.
I will not settle for average.
I will not be status quo.
I will not watch life pass me by.
I will not bow to other masters.
I will not bend my morals, ethics, or integrity.
I will not be done making this world a better place until God calls me Home.
You could very easily be sitting in your retirement chair in a trailer up in Maine, but instead, you drew a line in the sand and set out for a better life for your family. We tell our kids all the time that life is a series of choices. Because you chose something different than the familiar, you have a beautiful legacy. I hope you find so much satisfaction in what you see- the fruit of your life. What happened because of all the lines you drew all along the way.
Truly, it is easy to celebrate you. You are a fine man of integrity, oozing with love. I’m so thankful you are part of my story.
So much love to you. A toast to Papa, to health, and to drawing lines in the sand.
Love, Amy
