Sometimes I think dads get the short shrift, especially when you have a child with a chronic medical condition. A lot of the times, it’s all about the mom. How awful for the mom, how does she get through something like that, she must be so strong. While all of that is true, the exact same thing applies to dads. And maybe it’s actually worse because they aren’t given the same amount of room to show their emotions.
Aaron is generally pretty stoic, but it comes out every now and again. Recently, he emceed a gala dinner event for a charity that supports families who have children with a rare genetic disorder. When he had to go up to the podium after an emotional speech by a sibling, he had a hard time holding it together. It’s just too close to home sometimes.
So on Father’s Day, we celebrate him and all the other dads out there who do the heavy lifting (Charlie is a very dense 30 pounds!!), make the pancakes, and attempt the daddy ponytails. For the record, Aaron is excellent at pancakes, not so awesome on the ponytails, but improving.
Aaron’s most amazing trait is his patience. He has bucketloads more than me, and manages to keep his cool way longer. And he is also way more relaxed than me (aka less anal), which often drives me nuts, but is also the perfect antidote to my sometimes excessive fastidiousness.
We love you Daddy!!
(I want to say a special Happy Father’s Day to my dad. Again, we don’t always think about the impact of huge traumatic events on men. When we were at clinic this week, our echocardiogram technician, who has looked after Addison since the very beginning, asked how my dad was. He said he still vividly remembers him coming in to the hospital every day, and though he never showed it at Addison’s bedside, he’d leave her and was so emotional outside the room. Love you dad/Gong Gong!!)
Elaine, Addison and Charlie