One of my favorite parts of the day is my husband's return home from work.
Of course it signifies the relinquishing of complete parental responsibility, but it is also the moment when my children stop whatever it is that they are doing and lose their minds with excitement.
My daughter runs to him and jumps into his arms as if he's been gone long on some distant trek, while my little man flails his arms about and shouts, "Ah Da".
Seeing his face is also part of the daily joy. No matter what the market did, no matter how long the commute, here is a moment in the day when nothing else really matters all that much.
It is life at its best.
My husband and I met in college where the world of courtship entailed meeting up at the same places and Saturday dates at Friendly's. Sequestered in the cloistered world of classes, parties, and more parties, there is little thought of the future beyond the worry of securing a job post-graduation. Marriage, real responsibility, and certainly children are something far from anyone's minds.
And so I certainly wasn't choosing my dates by their potential to be a good father, which is why I consider myself to be one of the luckiest people around.
Even at its toughest, being a father is his greatest success. He loves what he does, he loves his family, but more than anything, he loves his children.
And they love him right back.
Happy Father's Day, John.