Somehow, without any planning, it just so happened that I got to spend Father's Day with my Daddy.
And even though father's day means very little in our house, I could not think of a nicer way to spend the day, nor better company for my boy and me.
We walked around the lake that I have walked around so many times before, whilst John gathered wool from from the fences and collected sticks for us all to fish with, and when we came to the giant hill at the end, my Dad scooped up my tired boy in his arms and half-ran up that hill as though he weighed nothing at all.
And as I trailed behind them up the steep slope, the sound of John's giggles floating back to me down the hill, I thought of all the times that I'd been carried so effortlessly in those strong arms. And I felt lucky to have been there, and lucky to be here, and so very grateful for my Daddy.