the three rons in my life (a father’s day tribute)

My dad’s name is Ronald. Ron. Ronnie if you knew him when he was little. I used to giggle with my sisters when we would go back to his little hometown in Montana. We would attend church with my grandfather and then afterwards there would be “bars and coffee” in the church basement. Lemon bars, rhubarb bars, yumminess in a pan. And the little old ladies would call us “Ronnie’s girls” and say things like “so good to see you Ronnie” and that was ridiculously funny to my little six-year year old self, that someone as big and strong and perfect as my dad could ever have been little enough to be called a thing like Ronnie.

My dad is the kindest person I know. He truly loves people. When I think of what Jesus must have been like on earth I think about my dad. Minus the beard. And the robe. Dad is a pants or shorts only kind of guy. He’s also a learner. It’s something that has always stood out to me about my dad, he never stops learning and growing and changing. He’s never content to stay where he is as a person – he wants to be a better version of himself and he never stops working on that. Someday he’s going to reach perfection and then I’m afraid he’s going to get terribly bored, but what can you do?

When we knew our oldest son was on his way I knew immediately I wanted to name him after my dad. I wanted him to have that physical sign of the heritage of love and kindness that my dad passed on to his children and grandchildren. So, at Christmas we gave my dad this picture of our little baby boy, with this written on it: “Dear Papa, Mommy and Daddy said they are giving me four names. They said the third one is after a man who is a true example of a Christ-follower and whose legacy I am blessed to have as my grandfather…”

fifth set (4)

We couldn’t have guessed then that about a year later we’d get another picture, taken in the same bouncer seat (minus the blanket), with another baby boy wearing the same outfit.

October (3)-001

{{I wish I could ask their foster mummy if she did this on purpose of if it was one of those happy happenstances of life}}

And this little baby would also end up being named after his papa, my dad. Talron is a name we’ve always loved and wanted to give one of our children. It has a special connection to my husband as well, so in more unique way Talron is also named after HIS daddy. But that’s another story for another day.

Tal means dew or rain of heaven. Ron(ald) means mighty warrior or wise ruler or counselor.  I love those two meanings together. I love how perfectly it fits with his other names – his Congolese one being the name of a royal in Congo’s past and Phoenix being the picture of new beginning, of rising from the ashes, and also used in medieval times as a picture of Christ.

So today, Dad, this is my little tribute to you. The story of how both my boys came to be named after the best dad I could imagine having. I love you

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