(no subject)
Today I know that I am loved, not that I don't think that other days. But today, I KNOW it.
Jon made plans with the children to give me a day of relaxing with a great meal. I had put out ground meat to make meatloaf, but Jon explained that I wouldn't need to cook today. At that time, I assumed that I would be going out to dinner. Nope. My family would make a wonderful dinner for me. Hannah made a Mediterranean chicken couscous main dish, Meggan made a potato, kind of like a twice baked potato dish, Natasha a challow bread and Jon an apple pie. It was delicious. No, it was better than that. It was delicio---os. Yummy and beautiful too.
I was shooed out of the kitchen several times after my attempts to help. Turns out that I have a hard time not helping cook, clean, shop, or at least... something.
I opened wonderfully heartfelt cards, to which I teared up to. I tear up every year, so that isn't unusual, but I love it. That's all I have to say about that (no, I am not Forest Gump, ha ha).
Then, thanks to being all rested, not cooking and all, I jumped with Natasha and Hannah on the trampoline. I did a flip, to which my stomach did a full somersault, made my belly tickle in a way I had forgotten it could do. I tried to jump enough, with enough momentum, to land on my buttocks (still not Forest Gump) then jump to my feet again. I tried about six or seven times, then I finally did it! Yes, at almost 43 I can still maneuver a trampoline sit and jump to my feet. Okay, I only did that twice, but it still counts, ha ha. Then, we decided that we should get out the radio. I turned on the radio, then Hannah and I played frozen trampoline. I thought it was lots of fun. I closed my eyes, groped for her and just listened to her laughter. I love hearing her laugh...
Once, I remember looking at all of my children together, thinking what a wonderful group of people they are, how much I love them, how lucky I am to have them, and what a wonderful dad they have to make the effort to remind me how great they are, to lead the way to show how to express their appreciation for me. He is like the light in a showcase box, highlighting them, while knowing if not for him, none of this would exist.
Jon made plans with the children to give me a day of relaxing with a great meal. I had put out ground meat to make meatloaf, but Jon explained that I wouldn't need to cook today. At that time, I assumed that I would be going out to dinner. Nope. My family would make a wonderful dinner for me. Hannah made a Mediterranean chicken couscous main dish, Meggan made a potato, kind of like a twice baked potato dish, Natasha a challow bread and Jon an apple pie. It was delicious. No, it was better than that. It was delicio---os. Yummy and beautiful too.
I was shooed out of the kitchen several times after my attempts to help. Turns out that I have a hard time not helping cook, clean, shop, or at least... something.
I opened wonderfully heartfelt cards, to which I teared up to. I tear up every year, so that isn't unusual, but I love it. That's all I have to say about that (no, I am not Forest Gump, ha ha).
Then, thanks to being all rested, not cooking and all, I jumped with Natasha and Hannah on the trampoline. I did a flip, to which my stomach did a full somersault, made my belly tickle in a way I had forgotten it could do. I tried to jump enough, with enough momentum, to land on my buttocks (still not Forest Gump) then jump to my feet again. I tried about six or seven times, then I finally did it! Yes, at almost 43 I can still maneuver a trampoline sit and jump to my feet. Okay, I only did that twice, but it still counts, ha ha. Then, we decided that we should get out the radio. I turned on the radio, then Hannah and I played frozen trampoline. I thought it was lots of fun. I closed my eyes, groped for her and just listened to her laughter. I love hearing her laugh...
Once, I remember looking at all of my children together, thinking what a wonderful group of people they are, how much I love them, how lucky I am to have them, and what a wonderful dad they have to make the effort to remind me how great they are, to lead the way to show how to express their appreciation for me. He is like the light in a showcase box, highlighting them, while knowing if not for him, none of this would exist.