Dear Ember--Welcome to the World!

Dear Ember,

      Wow.  That looks so official. Seeing your name in print just looks so real.  You’re not even a month old and I’m writing you a letter. Today is your very first Valentine’s Day.  It seems like we just got the call you had made your much anticipated arrival, but you’re sneaking up on being a month old already!

There is really no way to tell you how long I’ve waited to write you this note.  Probably since 1998?  Or 1999?  That’s when I first met that guy you will soon be calling dad.  He’s doing a wonderful job of keeping us informed of your pure cuteness through pictures and Facebook posts.  Yep.  He’s become THAT dad.  And as someone who will not get to see you very often, I’m thrilled he posts these pictures.  And deep in my heart, I knew he would be THAT dad.  It’s something I love about him. 

I’m not sure when I knew what an amazing dad he was going to be, but it was early in our friendship.  Was it the time we tossed Tate in his front porch late one Sunday night because we had to take Scott to Mobridge for stitches after a head dive into the cast iron, white enameled bath tub?  We had not yet spent a full week in our new home and there we were needing an extra hand for our latest catastrophe.  We did not really know our neighbors.  They were nice folks—all had greeted us warmly, brought delicious muffins with cinnamon butter, and waved often as we started to make our new house a home.  But it was a little early to be asking them to watch our very nervous little first grader.  He had tried to stop Scott from the cannonball he was attempting in the tub and was feeling pretty bad about the aftermath.  Tate had school the next day and the last thing he needed was to make the 40 mile, one way trip to Mobridge while we waited for an ER doctor to sew up the gaping hole in Scott’s forehead.   As we grabbed ice, towels, and shoes, Mark immediately said, “I’m going to call Jeremy.  Tate can stay with him.  I know he won’t mind.” 

And he didn’t…

If I remember correctly, Tate got to watch Jeremy’s beloved Simpsons, drink a pop, and hang out in his bachelor pad.  According to Tate, it was very cool.  He wasn’t even tired, yet doesn’t remember us hauling him off the couch to his bunkbed.  I think he thought he was going to get to spend the night.  It was the beginning of many adventures with the guy my kids adored and called “Coach Kane”. 

Was it the time the beloved, overpriced, much begged for, basketball hoop took victim to the harsh South Dakota wind?  We came home after a weekend in Bismarck to see the hoop face down in the black paved driveway.  Despite having filled the base with water and perhaps even sand, it was no match for the breeze that had made its way through town over the weekend. The boys jumped out of the Taurus and immediately tried to stand it up.  Of course, Mark’s help was needed and it was apparent, the backboard, (a flimsy molded plastic contraption) had covered its last shot.  It was cracked, and falling off by the base.  Only the finest plastic on those things you know.  There were some pretty sad faces upon seeing the damage.  Mark assured them they could still go up to the courts to play and that he would try to fix it somehow.  Even as little guys, the Senftner boys knew the latter was not a possibility.  We just aren’t that handy.  After a few weeks, in steps our now very close friend, (and your dear daddy) Coach Kane.  On one of his trips home to the Kane Ranch (where your awesome grandpa and grandma were living at the time) he swung by in his familiar Duke blue pickup and loaded up the hoop, promising the boys he could put a new backboard on the base and it would be as good as new.  Big smiles from everyone…Perhaps the biggest one from Mark.

And he fixed it…..

You know that adorable outfit you were wearing in some of those first hospital pictures?  The one with the big navy and red “A” on the front?  Yeah, well that “A” represents your dad’s favorite team, the Arizona Wildcats. He loves them. For as much as we love your dear dad, we just do not see eye to eye on favorite teams. I mean, you rocked that outfit and you definitely have the style to pull off the Wildcat look, but we just are on two different pages here.   Tate and Coach Kane especially liked to battle over which was the best team.  Duke for Tate and Arizona for Coach Kane.  Your dad dislikes everything about my and Tate’s beloved Blue Devils.  And while Tate didn’t dislike Arizona, he just really liked Duke.  They had fun cheering against each other’s teams and liked to watch games and talk basketball together. I have a feeling you will spend some late nights watching hoops together.  (Don’t believe everything he says about Duke and also, don’t trip other people when you play games. Your dad will be really disappointed if you trip people.)

Okay, so back to the hoops transformation. I totally remember the unveiling of the newly remodeled hoop.  He told us he would bring it over after school and the boys were so excited.  It was one of the funniest things I ever saw your dad do, Ember.    As he unwrapped the tarp or blanket he had put over the hoop for the dusty trip down Highway 65 from the ranch, I could see there was something on the backboard.  Tate saw it immediately and started to half giggle and half grumble in between my comments and loud laughter.  There, freshly painted, and thickly shellacked, was a great big Arizona Wildcat decal.  The backboard was fixed!  And it was now an Arizona Wildcat backboard. It brought much laughter and Tate knew what a great trick he had played.  We still laugh about this trick.

Maybe it was the time he loaded up both Tate and Scott and took them to ranch for the weekend.  He asked us if we cared if the boys came with him for the weekend.  They were so excited and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit we enjoyed a little break from our family crazy too that weekend.  We had had a really busy school year and your dad knew just how to step in and help us out. He’s that kind of guy.

 It could have been the time that Tate begged to go to the State B Tourney in Aberdeen but we had school.  “Coach Kane will take me.  Just for the day.  He said we can go just for the day because we both want to see the McLaughlin game.”  He continued to plead. “I will only miss one day of school and I will get all my homework done.”   Reluctantly we relented, and I watched as they drove off early that morning in his (Duke) blue pickup to the big games. The trip did no go as planned, but it was the excitement of getting to go somewhere with a dear family friend that meant the most to me. (Have your dad teach you how to change a tire. I know he will, but pay attention.  He’s a really smart guy.)

It might have been the time(s) we all piled into the minivan and went to Bismarck for the day just to eat at Applebee’s and stop at Walmart—nothing else.  Scott was not a very good traveler at the time, and your dad never complained while the three of us were all praying he would fall asleep.  And he usually did….about 10 miles outside of Bismarck. I bet you will make a few trips to the mall in the coming years.  And someday, when he asks if that trip to town is really necessary, remind him of the times we did the very same thing.  I promise he will  remember wanting a little commerce and fast food.  

I could go on and on, Ember. About your beautiful mom, your dear Grandma Toots (Who will say prayers with you before meals and bedtimes…even if it’s just cereal. Ask Scott about this--he can fill you in.), We are so sorry Grandpa John just missed getting to meet you, but we know he was anxiously awaiting your arrival to the world.  Your dad didn’t become the great guy he is by accident.  He had the blessing of a being raised and loved by some amazing folks…. all of who couldn’t wait to see Coach Kane, (or Jer as some call him) become your dad.   He is one of the kindest, most sincere, honest men we know and we are so very honored to have your family in our lives.  Your dad and Mark spent hours together on the sidelines.  His role in Mark’s career as his assistant coach and more importantly, dear friend, is a blessing to our family.   We might be four hours away, but we aren’t going anywhere.  We can’t wait to see the adventures awaiting you.

Blessings to you on this very first Valentine’s Day, Miss Ember.  You are exactly what we prayed for….

You’ve got this, Coach Kane. 

We Love You,  Lynn