He never asked if I wanted to
accompany him to the hardware store, gas station or his office, it was simply
understood that where he went, I went too.
If you sit with my dad for long you will likely hear my name and brief
biography of how ‘wonderful’ I am. He
will give you a ‘no -apologies’ boast of his ‘little girl’ and the woman I’ve
become. What he neglects to mention, is that
I wouldn’t be who I am without him.
When I became a mom, I realized the true greatness of my parents. My dad never fails to have a cliche or anecdote for any occasion. Growing up I remember, “if you are going to do something, do it right, or not at all”. He was present. As little girls my sister and I raised, rabbits and turtles, picked peaches, cleaned the garage, and washed the cars, but there was no shortage of fun. Dad let us put make-up on him, curl his hair and threw us in the air just high enough to make our stomach drop. Dad will tell you he feels guilty that he wasn’t able to give us ‘everything’ growing up, I disagree.
Dad carried me on his shoulders and
raced me around the grocery store in a cart long after I was too old. He taught me how to change a tire and check
my oil. He never let me believe that there
were boundaries to the things I could accomplish because I was a girl. He wasn’t a
spectator of my childhood he was an active participant, shooting hoops and
playing catch until it was too dark to see. He never told me it was too hot
outside or that he was too tired. Some
of my favorite memories are of our dark drives to practice before the sun came
up. We shared coffee, breakfast and
life. I have always been grateful for
his grace and mercy which was more than I deserved. Maybe
it is because we are so similar, but he always knows the words I need or when
silent presence is enough. Happy
birthday to the man that loved me first.
