Dad

His name is Farrand.
I love that name.
Have you ever met a Farrand?
Probably not,
unless you knew
my Dad.

If you knew my Dad,

you would say that he was a man of few words.

The words he spoke were well chosen and wise.

If you knew my Dad,

you would say he was gentle, patient, honorable, and kind.
 He loved his family and God.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he was the finest carpenter around.
 His talents are well remembered and renown.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he was a man of deep faith--
a faith made stronger through his life's trials and tragic losses.

Yet, if you knew my Dad,
you would also say that his handsome blue eyes always sparkled.
His presence made us feel safe and loved.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he loved music.
The classical music never ceased --

in our home, in his truck, in the workshop, and on the work site.

 

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he loved nature.
Dad could name any tree, plant, weed, wildflower, or bird.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he could make anything and fix anything.
I've heard many stories of his creative genius.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that he was respected:
 for his craftsmanship, his integrity,
his generosity, and his servant heart.

If you knew my Dad,
you would say that his smile was warm
and his hugs were a squeeze from the side.

 If you called him Dad,

 you would say you were
LOVED,
and 
you 
were 
BLESSED.

Dad,
I am so proud to be your daughter.
As a little girl, I always imagined you would build my house one day.
Now, I  imagine you building with Jesus, preparing a place for us.
 I can't wait for your squeeze from the side.