I sat down on the recliner tonight with the intention of writing a Father’s Day tribute. (I know the boys wrote a daddy letter last year, but I thought I’d try this time.) The boys begged for a pre-bedtime movie, which I’ve given into a lot lately since this 8.5 month pregnant belly doesn’t want to exert much energy. They chose The Good Dinosaur tonight, which is great except that it has put a complete damper on the happy Father’s Day thoughts floating around in my head. If you haven’t seen it, let’s just say it opens with the tragic loss of “papa”, the daddy dinosaur.
My two year old has asked me 63 times what happened to papa. I can’t bring myself to tell him that he won’t ever come back, but his concerned eyebrows tell me he probably already knows. He knows that something important is now gone. No matter what the young dinosaur does, he can’t find a replacement for papa.
There is no replacement for papa.
There is no replacement for a good daddy.
Every little kid deserves a daddy who will teach them how to face their fears.
Every little kid deserves a daddy who will teach them to catch what God created us to enjoy
and show them what to do with it
Every little kid deserves a daddy who will show him how to have fun in their own back yard
Every little kid deserves a daddy who will teach them to have a little fun (and fight forest fires)
Every little kid deserves a daddy who will teach them how to pray
Sometimes i think it’s not fair that mine have that daddy when so many don’t.
I can’t stand to think of these boys learning that many of their little friends don’t have someone they call daddy. I guess that’s why I just forwarded through the scene where the little dinosaur dreams about his daddy and then finds out he isn’t really there.
I guess they have to learn sometime how blessed they are.
Even though I think they already sense that.