Fathers

Fathers.

Fathers have always been kind of a mystery to me.

My dad,

My dad was cool.

He and my mom met in art school, in Los Angeles, in the early 1960's; I mean, he was very cool!
He played trumpet, which I never heard, but I do remember loving his guitar playing and his "sound".
But, my dad, wasn't a father.
And that's okay.


It's okay, that he wasn't a father, because, I had a grandfather. A grandfather, who I still think was the greatest man I've ever known.

It's a very blessed person who has an amazing father or grandfather in their lives. And of all the prayers I prayed as a child, the greatest prayer I had was that my own children would grow up with a great father. My second prayer was that I'd be blessed with a daughter. How fortunate am I to have two daughters and they have a wonderful daddy. {I can't imagine what I've done right to be so blessed, but I am ever so grateful.}

Scott and the girls!

Through the years, my dad and I had an on again off again friendship. He passed on to me my curly hair and according to my mom, his temper. I've also always had an innate appreciation for Native Americans, which truly must come from that Cherokee blood. I spent about a week with Roger when I think I was about 13. He was living in his native hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I fell in love with the land there, too.

Roger Tillison passed away just before this last Christmas. If you Google his name you can find a bit of information about him. Click here for one such article and samples of his music. It has some nice comments after it with some stories. These are things I never knew about him, but they warmed my heart a little by the kind words many of his friends wrote about him.


I always thought it was the coolest thing that my grandfather was born just before the "turn of the century". He was born in 1898 in the Rocky Mountain state of Idaho.

This is a sketch by my mom of me and Gramp, 1964. It's just about my favorite.

During my young childhood, before he retired and spoiled me rotten, Paul S. Ballif was Chief of Engineering for the National Bureau of Standards, in Boulder, Colorado. I remember never really knowing what that was, but it sounded "really important"!  This photo was taken while visiting him at work.

I mean look at me. That's a little face of someone who adored her grandfather! He was such a wise man. I only wish it didn't take me a lifetime to appreciate that. He wasn't always so patient and he was private, but he was steadfast in his beliefs and a great storyteller! Gramp passed on to me my dimples and my bushy eyebrows { I loved his eyebrows, I'm not so crazy about mine}. He taught me to love the land and appreciate the outdoors. In my heart, "home" will always be that red brick home, nestled at the foothills of Boulder, Colorado.

This is McKenna (3) and Andrea (8) during the summer of 2004 in front of my grandfather's house. Gramp had passed away while I was pregnant with Andrea. This was the first (and the last) time I had visited my hometown. 

But whether its dad, daddy, father, pop, papa, or the man of the house, for me, it doesn't get any more amazing then this serious,

I mean, wild and crazy man I am blessed to call my husband.
He IS patient, thoughtful and kind.
He IS wise beyond his years, and could be humble if he ever made a mistake.
He IS my other half and my better half.
He fills all the voids in my soul.

The only man in my life that I love with all of my heart.
So grateful that he is the daddy to these two sweet girls.
Enjoy.
{Scott's daddy and awesome grandpa is also featured in this video}


{you can watch in full screen by clicking the rectangle in the bottom right corner}

Happy Father's Day to those great daddys out there.
Girls and boys, hug them tight, because you'll never know the sacrifices they've made to help you
become a better you.

Melle