You held my hand for 18 hours straight when I was in labor with son. And when the nurse suggested you could go get dinner you looked me in the eyes and I knew you wouldn't leave my side.
When son had to go back into the hospital for jaundice you stayed up with him all night long to make sure the tiny cotton sunglasses wouldn't slip off his eyes, to watch over him.
The week after giving birth I was sitting on Pamper's filled with Epifoam and ice, still looked pregnant and had dark circles under my eyes. You told me I was beautiful.
When daughter knocks us all over running to the door to greet you, there is always a big smile on your face for her, there is always a huge hug, no matter how hard your day was.
Of the two of us daughter will always pick your lap, your story reading and your approval first. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Ever since we made the decision that I would stay home with the children you have worked tirelessly to make that happen. Picking up overtime when you could, going without so that we could have at times. For almost 8 years you have supported your family without a word of protest.
We have laughed together, hugged each other in the wee hours as we changed diapers, warmed bottles, bathed sick children and soothed nightmares.
There is an unending supply of patience and calm that you bring to our children. When they are afraid they know that holding your hand will make them feel safe and steady.
I lie in bed in the morning and listen to you make breakfast for the kids, listen to you all laugh and know that I am the luckiest wife, that they are the luckiest kids.
I close my eyes and see you teaching the kids to drive, dancing with our daughter at her wedding, holding your first grandchild. I see me standing beside you, looking up to you all the while.
We love you. Happy Father's Day.