I was inspired today as I watched my husband, Brad, run his first marathon. For the past four months, four days a week, he has been running to prepare. The temperature was chilly this morning as he waited for the race to start. He stood shivering in his neon tee shirt beside his two training buddies. All three of them had decided to conquer the race together. 

My father did not go off to war. During the draft for Vietnam, his name was drawn. In fact, in his hometown, most of the boys of the graduating class of 1966 were selected. He would tell you, he was excited to go. He thought he would be bunked with his close friends, after all, they all had been drafted together. 

With our children watching we exchanged rings on the freshly mown grass in the front yard of his parent’s house. We read our handwritten vows and we kissed. Afterward, to the cheers of our family, we took off running toward the future hand in hand. 

“We wanted to let you sleep in, Birthday Girl,” Brad said coming in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.  I was instantly annoyed, I hate oversleeping. It was my Birthday, and I didn’t want to be unpleasant to my family. Swallowing my temptation to be a sour puss I put on a forced smile as I patted his shoulder.

My son Judah is turning six today. I am joining the ranks of parents everywhere who sigh over time gone by. As a family, we would all agree, Judah makes life better. He has a way of reminding us that life is full of wonder and even more importantly that life was meant to be lived together.

Have you ever made a vow to someone? A promise you meant to keep? Something more than an I swear I won’t tell, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…?

As I grew she was my hero. Her blue eyes were oceans of love, but my mother had a big job. She raised the four of us while my Father worked at the factory. She made us meals, she mended our clothes, she even tried to spank us if we were naughty, (but it didn’t hurt). I didn’t know what it was to be a mother until I became one.

Sometimes you can have the most fun doing seemingly ordinary things. This was the kind of joy I had with my mom as we celebrated her 72nd birthday. At the trail, my dad opened the trunk to get their two sets of walking poles. I laughed to myself thinking, why would you need walking poles on the nature trail? We live in Iowa, there is barely a hill in these parts.

I sat at the classroom desk three rows back. The lights were off except for the one at the front of the room where my daughter stood. She looked around nervously as her teacher gave her the signal to begin.

The world needs good dads. Our daughters want attentive fathers, and for one special night as a rootbeer float server, I caught a glimpse of how wonderful that world could be within a father’s gaze.

Breathlessly staring up into the glorious blue expanse, I couldn’t help feeling this is where dreams are born. Brad took my hand, I could tell he felt the same way. I stole a kiss as we looked at our youngest dream: the little boy laying between us underneath the open sky. 

Dad could make any moment feel like a day at the circus. I couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his affection like little hearts covering my soul. In that momentt I was the center of his attention.

That

The day still shines vibrantly in my mind. I was certain I knew Brad better than most girls knew their man. After all, we had been dating for what seemed like years, but actually only amounted to one year and 2 months.

As I look into the mirror, I see you staring back at me. Your eyes are blue but mine are brown like my father’s. Still, there is something of you shining through.

He was born on a warm Sunday morning in April. I was both sad that I missed church and relieved to finally hold my firstborn son in my arms.

Eighteen balloons fill her room as she wakes up. It is her eighteenth birthday and I can’t believe it. She is now an adult. The little sweet baby born on a warm April night has been raised to adulthood. I am sad and happy at the same time.

We gathered in her living room on a gray Wednesday afternoon. Outside the wind was colder than it should be on a late March day. I sat on the couch next to her younger sister.

Looking back at her own launch she remembers the restlessness her daughter feels. She had it too, it is a part of growing up. The pressure to jump out and try your wings is innate but the mother bird looks at her offspring and wonders if she is ready. She knows her daughter’s tendencies and she worries.