"The dad dipped his son’s worries in a large bucket of care, and rinsed them off carefully, one by one.
He put his son’s damp spirit to dry in the bright sunshine of his love.
He slowly and carefully ironed out the wrinkles on his son’s forehead, removing one crease after another, patiently, with sage advice, and a warm hug.
He did it still, in-spite of his brittle bones, his sagging skin and waning vision. Even when he was the father of a man. And his son was now a father. Because ironing his son’s shirts perfectly was how he loved his son."
This story is very personal. And it is dedicated to my father-in-law and my father. My father-in-law, even today, likes to iron my husband's shirts. He is rarely satisfied with how the professionals do it. My father, begins his day each day, by checking if his son is ok, or if there are wrinkles on his forehead that need ironing out. They are both beautiful relationships, between father and son. I dedicate this story to all fathers and sons and that special bond they share.
He put his son’s damp spirit to dry in the bright sunshine of his love.
He slowly and carefully ironed out the wrinkles on his son’s forehead, removing one crease after another, patiently, with sage advice, and a warm hug.
He did it still, in-spite of his brittle bones, his sagging skin and waning vision. Even when he was the father of a man. And his son was now a father. Because ironing his son’s shirts perfectly was how he loved his son."
This story is very personal. And it is dedicated to my father-in-law and my father. My father-in-law, even today, likes to iron my husband's shirts. He is rarely satisfied with how the professionals do it. My father, begins his day each day, by checking if his son is ok, or if there are wrinkles on his forehead that need ironing out. They are both beautiful relationships, between father and son. I dedicate this story to all fathers and sons and that special bond they share.
No comments:
Post a Comment