Happy Birthday Dad!

I know I claim a lot of bragging rights with my family, but I seriously wouldn't do it if every statement wasn't absolutely true (at least in my eyes.) So to give you the basic idea of my dad's character, I'm going to tell you all a little (way too long and boring) story.

The week after I had Nathaniel, I went to take McKenna to the bus stop on one of the many crazy snowy days we had this last winter. It was McKenna's last day of school before the Christmas break and I was really looking forward to having her home for awhile. I should first tell you that I do not do well the first month or two after having a baby. I am an absolute emotional basketcase. I have horrible anxiety and seriously cry almost all day long. That being said, when McKenna's bus didn't show up, I was already having to take deep breaths to calm myself at the prospect of having to load up all three kids and drive in all the snow to take her to school myself. But take her I did. On the way home, I drove over some slush in the road, heard something large hit the underside of my van, and suddenly it completely seized up and I was stranded on the side of the road. I, of course, immediately started bawling. We were all in our pajamas and slippers and my little newborn was hungry and making it known with his very loud crying. Thank heavens for cell phones. What did I ever do without one? Since Brandon works at a hospital, it's pretty much impossible to get a hold of him. So I called the people I always know I can count on, my parents. They were out to rescue me in a flash.

Leaving my van on the side of the road, my parents drove me home. The first thing my dad did when walking into my house was get on the phone and start calling tow-truck companies and auto-repair shops. Which was a HUGE blessing to me. I mentioned before that I have a phone phobia, and I absolutely hate calling any kind of company for anything. I always make Brandon do it. My wonderful dad not only secured a tow-truck and a place to fix my van, but he drove back to my van and waited himself for the truck to show up (which ended up being a horribly long wait for him, sorry Dad.) I felt so taken care of.

The next day, I received a call from the repair shop letting me know what was wrong and also the estimated cost to fix it. The amount was so high, I immediately started bawling (again) and Brandon had to take over to finish the conversation. Not 5 minutes after we hung up the phone, my mom called to let us know that they received the call themselves and that my dad insisted on covering the cost of the repairs until we were able to pay them back - even if it took years or never happened at all. You have to understand that after Brandon's long absence from work due to the chemotherapy, after having a baby, and after paying for Christmas, we were struggling financially to say the least. I can't tell you how much it meant to me to know that my family knew we were struggling (in so many ways) and that they were there to take care of us.

My dad takes care of us, he always has. When I was little, he was always so attentive and sympathizing whenever I was sick (which always made me feel so guilty whenever I was totally faking to stay home from school.) It's nothing to him to join us when we invite them out to dinner, and then insist on covering the bill. (And then he always has some weak excuse why it was necessary for him to do so.) He's also always making fun little jokes. My sister, D'Ann, keeps a little file of all his sayings. For example: "This food tastes a little musty." And once all the offended looks have passed, he'll add, "Like you must have more of it." Or when someone announces they have to use the facilities, he'll quote, "You better go when you gotta go, cause if you don't go when you gotta go, when you do go, you might find you already went." He has a million others and he's always repeating them and it never fails to make us smile.

So Happy 29th Birthday (again) Dad!! Know that we love you and always appreciate everything you do.