“I just got over a cold.”

The fix? Denial. Until my classmates joked that I had H1N1 (Swineflu) and took cover when I sneezed. My coughs, sniffles and sneezes echoed through the half-empty library enough times that I was embarrassed. I gave way to my instinct – mommy and daddy. That’s right - I went back to my room, took a shower, lathered Vicks all over me, swallowed two capsules of Nyquil, snuggled in and knocked out early. I felt lovely the next morning, with a slight cough, but the constant sniffles and sore throat were gone. Come morning, I’ll be well enough for my first visit with the kids at P. Bargos.

I realize that I’m far from home. But home is not far from me.

My parents have instilled many characteristics and traits in me. For one, they’ve given me fear of the dreaded “Amy Grace” holler from the other side of the house as well as “the look” that instantly brings shame. I have the desire to put my best into anything, and if my best wasn’t given then it wasn’t enough. Being punctual and amiable, dealing with disappointment and rising to be proactive are (often one-sided) conversations that are pleasantly ingrained in my memory.

Thanksgiving to my Father for my earthly father and mother, who have had the goal since their courtship to raise a Christian family. They’ve impressed much upon me (Leviticus 6), and they've established an environment to nurture my faith. My parents are not perfect, they have declared it so. In the same way, I am no where near a picturesque daughter (I’m not chipper at home). So with imperfect parents and imperfect children, comes the miracle of family. Another good one, God.

Happy early Father’s Day, Dad.

I still hold on to the truth, Mom, that my prospects have been ruined by his standard– so thanks.

<3 Amy Grace