I woke up this morning with a favorite memory of me and my dad. No doubt brought on by Doug's snow-digging antics of yesterday. I really found it tender that he would spend so much time and energy digging out snow to get Bode to his friend's house (his "best" friend I should say. I am so grateful for this little boy. These two play so well together it amazes me. I love listening in on them. So cute). Bode was disappointed that he couldn't get there ("rotten luck, Dad's truck is stuck" didn't seem to amuse him, either!).

Anyway, my memory is a blizzard memory, too. We lived in Colorado Springs from '80-'85, so I was 5-9 (I just turned 10 when we moved). We were in the middle of an amazing storm with winds and snow drifts going over fencelines and i remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders so i could go to a friend's house around the block. This meant not only did he carry me there but he walked back home through that wicked weather, walked back to get me and carried me home once again. That's love. Well, my cynical mind wonders (now that i have kids of my own) how much was i driving them crazy as we were all stuck inside?? ;) Regardless, my dad has always sacrificed so much for his family and this is just one example.