As most of you readers have probably learned by now, it's going to be a long post when it's regarding something important to me. I hope you're ready to read. :) I want to mention a bit about my Dad...after all, it IS Father's Day tomorrow, and I realized I have never posted about him for this occasion. As I was thinking about what I would write, it occurred to me why I've never come up with anything to blog about for Father's Day since I created this blog 3 years ago: I can't. I simply can't. I cannot accurately articulate who my Dad is to me. Just can't do it. BUT...I'm going to give it a shot this year. Just know this: these things I'm about to write are a far, far cry from who he is. If you don't know him, or if you do know him and simply don't get to be around him, you have my deepest sympathy.
Someone once said, "There is a very real sense in which every woman's heart still belongs to Daddy." I would say that is certainly true for me. And, most who know me wouldn't argue. After all, I do spend much of my time with him - I go to his house (every day), ride to work with him (every day), talk to him at work (pretty much every day), ride home with him (every day), have supper with him (pretty much every day), walk home with him (pretty much every day), go to church with him, you get the idea, right? And, it's been that way from the very beginning...he invested time in me because I was that important to him.
The sociologist in me brings to mind that there are specific dynamics of a family that only a father can fill. My first perception of the male species came from Dad. My expectations of how a male should behave came from Dad. He held my hands when I learned how to walk. He helped me struggle through fractions and common denominators. He showed me affection and comforted me on life's roughest days - and on good days, too. He held me close and cared how I looked. I grew up in a healthy home with a man who was stable and loving. He taught me that women are to be respected, loved, and cherished. According to statistics, very few women can say the same. I am one lucky girl!
I recall the time when Steph & I went out to the garden on a hot, summer day and picked the onions. Not just a few; ALL of them. We folded our shirts out like hammocks, loaded the cute, little green stems, and transfered them inside to the bathtub. We didn't know they were still supposed to GROW. :) No matter how badly I'm sure he wanted to, he didn't beat us.
When I lost a tennis match, he didn't express disappointment or make me walk home. He encouraged me to do better the next time.
When I was little, he didn't spout words of lecture. He spouted words of love. As I've gotten older, that has changed - but most times, I have warranted those words on my own. He didn't compromise, but directed. And when needed, he was stern and firm.
Dad works. Hard. Every day. I can remember a time when he had 4 jobs. And somehow, he still made me a priority and found time to spend with me. He never took a day off - unless we were going on a fun vacation (South Dakota, Colorado, Wyoming, and Branson, to name a few). The cars always ran - - maybe not with AC, but they ran. The bills, although maybe late, got paid. The lawn stayed mowed.
Recently, I witnessed my dad during a time of EXCESSIVE responsibility - a time when EVERYONE was depending on him, including the one he has always been able to turn to - his mother. His guarded strength throughout that time is something I will never forget.
When I smell English Leather, I know he's near. When I see a honey bee, I appreciate his vivacity for life. When I hear a korny, Red Skelton joke, I go ahead and laugh. Ah, yes...laughter - I couldn't end this without mentioning the most common emotion expressed by all who encounter this man. Yes, laughter is guaranteed. Which, is probably why people swarm around him at family gatherings. They aren't stupid - they know where the fun is.
There is no need to even consider money or possessions - because the only thing that does not perish is love. Today, my dad's love spills over from me to my babies. When he comes home from work and sees those little noses pressed against the glass door, he knows he's a success.
To some, Dad hasn't done anything ferociously crazy. (Note: I said, "to some.") But he has done what every father is supposed to do - and he has done it well: be there.
Dad ~ Happy Father's Day. I love you!!!
xoxo,
Sarah
