I wrote a long time ago about our resident dad. I wrote about how he’s Mr. Man’s Man/Woman’s Man/Everyman/Superman.
And it was written sort of satirically. But also completely truthfully.
And it was read by others. And then it was twisted. By others. And then it became this hurtful thing, here in our little family. Which ended up sowing all sorts of discord. Which I didn’t, and don’t to this day, appreciate.
Mean people suck. Haters are going to hate. All that verbiage.
I stand by my initial post about the man we call “Dad” around here. He is an exemplary fellow. I remember reading about Paul Bunyan when I was in grade school. He was a legend, larger than life. Everything about him was grandiose, on a grand scale.
To be clear, I’m not saying we live with Paul Bunyan. (And, to be clear, at times, maddening and frustrating might be adjectives I’d reach for.)
But what I tried to articulate many, many moons ago, when I wrote the initial post about the man we live with, was that he truly is a remarkable person. A remarkable man.
A man for all seasons.
We are so very lucky to share our lives with this man. He makes our lives better. He does what he can to light our way.
Thank you Dad-of-our-daughter. Happy Father’s Day.
(For your viewing pleasure: our very own Paul Bunyan.)