I took the boys to the cemetery yesterday to visit Matt's grave for Father's Day. We spread out a blanket and talked until our backs were too hot to sit there any longer. I asked Brigham what one of his favorite memories of his dad is. He said, "Once when you were gone, Dad gave me 8 Oreos. I pulled them apart so I would have 16." MUST have been while I was gone! EIGHT Oreos?!
As we talked I was struck by the thought that my kids will think going to the cemetery for Father's Day is just as normal as other kids think it is to buy their dads a new tie for Father's Day.
If I had to choose for my children between memories of a great dad and the reality of a crappy one, I'd choose memories of a great dad. Matt was a great dad.