On this day in our house we celebrate my husband and his amazing status as papa of four. A status that doesn’t surprise me, but I think still catches him by surprise from time to time. The kids made cards and a few sweet small gifts. And my older two kids saved money for 4 months to buy him an Ipod to record bird sounds so he could take it into the woods and call the birds to him. (yes, he’s a bird geek.) And we spent the day at home with little pomp and circumstance, but home all together to revel in the idea of being a family.
And on this day I remember my own dad too. Dean Charles Noll born 1927 died 2003. He was an engineer. An amateur magician. A teller of bad jokes. A loving husband. A public speaker. A lector at church. A world class runner. A carpenter. And a really great father of nine.
He died at home six years ago this summer and I was privileged to be there – as we are most summers. And one of my favorite essays I ever wrote I wrote about that experience. Happy Father’s Day Dad! I miss you so much.





