A Constant Blessing

Two nights ago, my dad stopped by to plow the snow from my really long driveway with his snow-blower. I was grateful because after two days of shoveling it, my back was pretty tired. Up and down the driveway he went, and even did the turn-around. I met him at the end of the driveway to help him lift the blower back into his truck bed, but he looked at me and asked, "Which way do the boys walk to school?" I pointed down the sidewalk to the south, and he cleared the sidewalks that hadn't been shoveled so that my boys would have a warmer, easier walk to and from school.

When he was done, I helped him load it up, and then hugged him good-bye. I came inside and cried, because I have the most wonderful father imaginable, and lately there has been more than one reason to worry that I'd lose him. It's all those little things, like blowing snow from a sidewalk for my kids, that remind me how blessed I am to be his daughter. And I'm afraid to be without him. My world would stop.

On Saturday, we were all at the tree lot together, and Drew had cold hands. My dad picked him up and put his own gloves on Drew. Drew left them on, which was great, because he won't leave his own mittens on for any longer than it takes to pull them off. My dad then carried Drew around, looking at trees, and after a while, he turned to me and said, "Don't you ever take these kids away from me." I wouldn't dream of it. Ethan told me tonight that his favorite part of Christmas is going to Nana's house. I am so glad that we live close to at least some of their grandparents.

And to my dad, I would say, it goes both ways. Don't you ever leave us here without you.