Sitting at my grandpa’s funeral, a devastated 17 year old, I remember listening to my dad give a speech about his life. A part of that speech was a story I’d forgotten about until today.

When my dad was young he enjoyed himself a good ol’ mayonnaise and cheese sandwich (gross, I agree). One evening he wanted his mayo and cheese snack. My grandma told him no, blaming a broken mayonnaise jar. In my dad’s kindergarten eyes this was no problem, my grandpa would fix it. This time the jar was, in-fact, unfixable. At my grandpa’s funeral my dad explained that was the last time his dad was unable to fix his problems.

As we were getting ready for bed tonight I heard something drop on the floor. I looked over and saw it was Brantley’s favorite seashell. This dang shell has been sitting on the counter for three months. I’ve tried to move it, hide it, put it away, and that thing keeps making its way back to the counter. I looked at the shell, I looked at Sam who gave me the not good look, and waited for Brantley to realize what happened.

Brantley slid off the chair and fell into my lap in tears. That story about my grandpa popped right into my mind as I was trying to console a four year old over a broken seashell given to him by his Memaw. I thought of my dad fixing our problems because he had a dad who fixed his. To me a broken seashell was no big deal. To little boys a broken shell and a mayonnaise jar meant so much more.

Just then I heard Sam assure Brantley we could fix the shell (and I was hoping super glue would magically appear). I found some glue, I put Brooks to bed, and came downstairs to a little white seashell resting on a paper towel waiting for glue to dry. That four year old? Content on the floor playing because dad fixed his problem..again.

I flashed forward to years ahead where we will be consoling him over missed shots, broken hearts, and every other thing I am not ready for. I thought of my own parents and the times they held me telling me everything would be ok..even if they weren’t quite sure how that would happen. Because that’s what we do as parents– hope and pray we can find the answers.

Today I am thankful for the dads and grandpas who can fix the seashells and all the problems. The dads who find the glue and stick us back together when needed. The dads who lead by the best example. What a grand reminder on this Father’s Day about the little things really being the biggest. ❤️