“A Father doesn’t tell you he loves you, he shows you.”
Before I married the “love of my life” I watched to see how he was around children. I expected the father of my children to be a great man who loved the Lord, loved me, and loved his children. I wanted a home like “The Cotter’s on Saturday Night," dinner, enjoying each other’s company, reading the Scriptures, family prayer. Especially I wanted the father of my children to enjoy being a father. As busy as he was as the owner of several businesses and many meetings, he would come home and dance with the babies. Sometimes he played “Horsey” as we called it, letting the children climb on his back, making sounds and bucking them off. He was not afraid to take them with him to work, if I needed a break. I loved putting the children to bed, with stories and lullabies. Sometime, he arrived home at 9:30 pm after I had just got them down, choose one to wake up and have a dish of ice cream. I always felt it was more important for them to enjoy his company than for me to be upset and stop the escapade.
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