Sunday, July 17, 2011
It's 10:10 pm on a Friday night. Dad hit the tent sale on the way home from work and we unloaded the car, picked the cukes in the garden and lit a fire to roast hot dogs before the beeper went off and he had to leave again. The day has been crazy with a final ballgame, unbearable humidity and heat and crabby little girls. But the moment he handed me the campfire fork and said, "I gotta go", I felt the most in love with him that I have ever been. I wouldn't trade this moment for anything. I am so blessed.