“Guys, do you know what today is?  It’s Daddy’s birthday.”

“Yes!!  That means we can have root beer floats today!  Remember that, Mommy?  You said we always could on Daddy’s birthday, because it’s Daddy’s birthday and it’s his favorite drink, and that’s today.”

“I did say that.  And yep.  You can.”

“Mommy, we can’t give him presents, though.  So maybe God will.”

“God loves to give good gifts, Tuck.  I bet God has something special planned for Daddy’s day.”

“Maybe we could mail him something?” Tyler asks.

“I wish we could, buddy.  The mailman doesn’t deliver to–”

“– to dead people.”

That’s not what I was going to say.  But also true.

He continues, with help from Tuck.  “Plus, dead people don’t have eyes.  He couldn’t even see what we wrote to him.”

“Guys, Daddy is alive in heaven.  And he has eyes.  He can see everything – things we can’t even see.”

“I wish he had super long arms and he could reach all the way down here and help me when I need him.”

“That would be great, buddy.  I agree.”

“I think we should sing to him, Mommy.”

And so, one block from the elementary school on our Monday morning drive, we sang Happy Birthday, Dear Daddy, Happy Birthday to you.


Three root beer floats. . . coming up.

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