An Unbroken Record

In my attempt to really clean things out this summer, I ran across some old journals. If there's anything that will cause the cleaning process to come to a screeching halt, it's finding old journals.

My poor kids. I was thoroughly enjoying my walk down memory lane and just knew they would too. As soon as I read something I thought was poignant or hilarious, I'd corral who ever was close by and made let them enjoy it too. 

One such entry prompted a picture and text to my oldest son and his dad. I don't remember this moment 18 years ago, and so I'm very thankful I had written it down. 

Luke, then 8, lived and breathed sports

Can you read it? Here's the translation in case you're cursively challenged like some of my kids:

12-9-97
10:40 pm
Lou just told me the following. 
      When he was putting Luke to bed, Luke asked, "Do you think Barry Sanders will ever pass Walter Peyton's all time rushing record?" Lou answered, "I don't know, but I know I love you." Luke kind of giggled and smiled. And as Lou was about to leave the room, Luke said, "And that's one record that will never be broken." Lou said back, "You're right!"

It's kind of perfect right here on the eve of Father's Day. 

I share this not because my Lou is a perfect father. I share this because he's not a perfect father. He's a good one, but he's not perfect. 

But he is a father that unconditionally loves his kids - and they have absolutely no doubt about that. And that knowing - that security - is a great gift from a father to a child. 

It's a gift all of us imperfect parents can give our kids. It's a gift my dad gave me, and one I've watched Lou give to our kids. 

I'm so very, very thankful.

Oldie but goodie of Lou and the crew