The tear fest has been re-activated as we are inching closer to the day of sending our boy off to West Point. I think the only one excited about Nate leaving is Aaron because he will be the head honcho (or so he thinks) around the house. He will be the oldest (theoretically) and that’s important for a guy stuck in the middle.
Whereas Aaron seems to be just fine, Mark and I were a mess on Father’s Day. Although the guys and I gave Mark some pretty sweet gifts: DunderMiflin Paper Company t-shirt, frisbee golf discs along with handy-dandy holder and a very clever book (click here), it is the written words of our sons that were the most heartfelt and memorable.
If only every father received such tender sentiments. What a world we would have if every father deserved such merit.
Nathan has quite a knack of making cards for others. They are usually hilarious, the guy could get a job at Hallmark, no problem which would be a lot easier than West Point, but I digress.
This Father’s Day, Mark received a different style card which included a picture of Mark and baby Nate.
In the photo, Nate is perched high on his daddy’s backpack. Now this same precious child is a young man walking onto a new life and places, proud and muscular, confident and ready. Someone wrote that “tears are pride overflowed.” Invest in Kleenex, folks.