We’ve been enjoying some pretty nice weather lately. Yesterday we had some light rain showers with periods of sunny skies between. It rained enough that I didn’t have to water the garden, but it was sunny enough that we were able to go for a walk and cook outdoors without rain gear. I was tending some salmon filets on the barbecue and watching our son playing with his two-year old son. Our back yard is relatively small. There are two cherry trees in the corners and we have flower and vegetable beds around the edges of a small patch of grass. One of the changes between this home and the home we had in South Dakota is that for 25 years in South Dakota I mowed a half acre with a walk behind lawn mower. It took me about two hours to mow my lawn. Here I can mow and trim everything in 20 minutes - 15 if I rush. That is just another way of saying that the patch of grass is small.

Our grandson was barefoot. One of the routines for our grandchildren is that they take off their shoes when they come into the house. They live on a farm with lots of dirt. There are chickens and cows on the place that leave behind their droppings. Taking off shoes at the door just makes sense. The grandchildren have their habit and they shed their shoes as they enter our house. Our youngest grandson not only takes of his shoes but also is in the habit of pulling off his socks as well. He likes the feeling of being barefoot. Yesterday he paused at the front door to pull of his shoes and socks and headed straight though the house to the patio sliding door to see what I was doing outside. His father followed. The feel of the lawn on his bare feet delighted him and he spent some time just running back and forth on the lawn in his bare feet. His father and I were delighted to watch him. His joy was contagious. Our son at first sat on the steps of our deck, but soon was lying on the grass himself and playing with his son. There were a few unripe cherries that had fallen from the tree, perhaps encouraged by a crow who comes and takes a few before they are ready to pick. Our grandson picked up a handful and took them to show his father. Seeing his dad lying on the grass he soon abandoned the cherries and was down on his hands and knees crawling over his father.

I looked at the pair on the grass and suddenly had a flash of memory of my father. My father died the fall before our son was born, so they never met face to face. What our son knows of my father is from the stories he has heard and a bit from the ways in which my parenting style imitated that of my father. Of course he also shares the family genes passed down from my father to our son and on to his children. Because my father died at a relatively young age, I never got to see him with our children. But I have sisters who are significantly older than I and I did see him with my sister’s children.

My dad struggled with chronic back pain for most of his adult life. He was injured when he was a young man. An airplane that he was flying experienced a catastrophic engine failure and he was forced to bail from the disabled craft. The descent of the plane caused him to be hit by the tail as he exited before he opened his parachute. The chute saved his life, earning him a membership in the silkworm club and a purple heart all in one event. As a result of his injuries, he could get significant relief from pain by lying flat on his back on the floor. He often came home from work and stretched out on the floor. He had the capacity to nap when there were all kinds of activities in our house. It was common for him to be dozing on the floor and one of my sister’s kids to crawl or run over to grandpa and climb on him.

That memory flashed through my mind as I watched my grandson climb on his dad in our back yard yesterday. The pure, unfiltered joy that children bring to us is something that I know my father experienced, that I experience, and that our son experiences. I can’t help but wish that our grandchildren all have the opportunity to experience that joy when they become adults.

I am immensely proud of our children and their accomplishments. It is something that my friends all know about me. I’m constantly bragging about them and the wonderful things they do. Our son has a truly impressive career of serving others. He is redefining the role of the library in his community and pioneering an expanded vision of library as community center. He genuinely believes that libraries are essential community services - as critical as fire and police protection and he has made a good case for that image in the community he serves. He has led the community in building a new library/community commons/city parking facility that is the largest infrastructure project in the history of the city. The multi-million dollar project is being completed without any tax increases. No bond had to be passed to pay for the building. It is fully funded through community partnerships and grants.

As proud as I am of his work, however, I am even more proud of the father he is. He is fully engaged in the lives of his children. I’ve watched him change a diaper and I’ve watched him create a shared project that fully engages a 13-year-old. And I have watched him simply delighted with his children, enjoying being with them just as they are.

There is no better father’s day gift than watching one’s children being good parents. To recognize a bit of my father in the exchange makes the experience even more rich. The mood for this father on this father’s day is gratitude. I am indeed blessed.