I still remember the way he huffed and puffed and ran behind me holding onto the pink and white banana seat of my bike while I tried to balance without training wheels.  I remember how it felt when he carried my sleepy body from the car, up the stairs, and placed me into bed when we got home late at night.  I remember the way he showed me the bill after eating a meal out making sure I understood how to calculate the tip.  I remember how it felt to run side by side in the glow of the morning light as we put miles behind us while talking about everything and nothing at all.  I can still hear the sound of his strong voice as he cheered me on as I rounded a track and headed toward the finish line of a track meet.  I remember how it felt when he took my hand and placed it into Chad’s moments before we said “I DO”.  I remember the rock he was after we lost my Mom and the way he led by example showing us that beauty can be found in the ashes.

Dad, thank you for teaching me some of life’s greatest lessons.  Thank you for telling me (then and still today) that you’re proud of me.  Thank you for not being my friend when I was young, but for being one of my best friends today.

I am who I am because you are who you are.


I remember the way he took me for a tour of Amish Country the first time I met him.  I remember the way he celebrated the way his son’s marriages by expressing that he was gaining daughters.  I remember he the way he shed tears the first time he laid eyes on Charlie, then Chanelle, then Meadow.  I remember the way he fought cancer.  I see the way he let’s Meadow paint his fingernails sparkly silver and the way he picks Chanelle up for dates that include Chinese food and shopping.  I experience his love in action when he delivers coffee to my front door for no reason at all, except that he knows I love it.  I hear the way he calls Chad “Bud” and supports, encourages, and gives of himself unselfishly to both family and friends.

Kim, our life is better because you are in it.  Thank you for all that you do for us, for loving us, and more than anything for being the kind of Dad who, with Char, raised the Dad to my kids.


I remember the way we weren’t going to have kids.  Just kids ourselves, our early married days were spent dreaming of other things, kids weren’t for us.

What did we know?

If I would have known then what I know now, I would have understood that to deprive little lives of all Chad has to offer would have been criminal.

Chad, thank you for being the kind of Dad that knows his kids.  Thank you for playing with them.  Thank you for showing them the world through your eyes.  Thank you helping them discover the world around them and for teaching them to have a curiosity about everything.  Thank you for coming home each night and giving them you. . .

Thank you for teaching them each and every day the importance of hard work.  Thank you for not being their friend, but for being their Dad.  Thank you for being a man of integrity and patience and faith.  Thank you for being present in their lives, our lives, each and every day.

Chad, I celebrate  you today. . .

I celebrate you every day. . .

Thank you for being the kind of Dad I had and the kind of Dad you had. . .

Thank you for continuing the kind of legacy worth talking about. . .


To all the Dad’s in my life. . . Happy Father’s Day. . . 

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