(Andy, less than a month after we met. I asked him to hold my birthday cake so I could take a picture of it.)
(Honestly, it’s a wonder the cake even made it in the photo
cause all I really wanted was a picture of HIM.
I’d known him 18 days at this point in time,
and already I knew I loved him with my whole heart.)
(And then some.)
(Alison, Andy, and Kipp)
(Kipp, Andy, and Alison at Sliding Rock in NC.)
(He told them about sliding down the wet boulders, but he kinda’ “forgot” to mention how cold the water is in the pool at the bottom.)
Dear Andy,
For the way you . . .
- continue to hold my hand after 42 years
- drive me to workshops
- never fuss (at least not on the outside) about how much something costs if it makes me smile
- laugh at things I say
- sing along with me (this is not a metaphor)
- walk closest to the street on sidewalks
- open doors for me as an act of consideration and respect, not from a place of condescension
- find us the most remarkable places to live
- continue to rouse and rally the butterflies in my stomach with your kiss
- see my strengths and abilities when I can’t or don’t
- sharing my love of quirky and odd. (It makes life so much easier.)
- encourage and support me towards self-determined life (even though so many times it would undoubtedly be easier not to)
- love Nancy so openly and tenderly and share her with me so willingly
- never had a business meeting more important than your child’s soccer game
- never once were too tired to attend a performance
- gave piggyback rides till they were tired instead of till you were tired
- worked two and sometimes three jobs so I could stay home as a full-time mother and find outlets for the kids to explore their varied interests and become their best, most creative selves
- drove home from the office, picked us up, then drove us back to wherever the kids needed to go just so we could have extra together time in the car
- use your creativity so brilliantly and profitably, always crafting situations where everybody is satisfied
- continue to show our children what a real, honorable, good man looks like, sounds like, acts like – not just occasionally or when things are going swell, but every minute of every day through every smile and tear . . .
Thank you.
I couldn’t’ve found a better husband
or a better dad for our children
if I’d had a million years to look.
Happy Father’s Day.
(Kipp, Andy, Alison)
(Nancy and Andy, 1999)
(Andy, Alison, and Kipp)
(Andy at the Grand Canyon.)
(Let it not escape your notice that I stopped him before he backed out over the edge.)
What a beautiful love letter.
Thank you, Sugar.