Father's Day

Today is Father's Day, and it's the second one I've missed while living here. My daddy is one of the most amazing men I know. He's not perfect. I get angry at him sometimes. He messes up, he falls down, but he fixes it, he rises. G reminds me of him so much it's not even funny (what's that saying about girls growing up to marry men like their fathers? My mother reminds me of this all the time!). So I am hopeful that someday G and I will have a daughter writing things about him as well.

My daddy was the main person who tucked me in at night. He read me bedtime stories. He sang to me and my brothers to get us to sleep. He wrestled with us, played outside with us, and loved us. He's a man who isn't afraid of emotion, but sometimes forgets to hug and say I love you. He's working on it. I remember one time when I was driving back up to college after a long weekend and I said to him "Someday we'll be hugging because it will be the last time you'll see me in a while." At the time I didn't know it would be less than a couple years before that would happen.

My dad has worked hard my entire life to help provide for his family. But he also provided more than that. He provided a childhood. My dad and I are the best fishers in the family. We both sit quietly, enjoying the outdoors. He was always up for swimming with us when we were at the lake. When I was a teenager, Daddy was the one I wanted to talk to when things were going on in my life. He very seldom judged a decision, but offered advice.

Even as I grew older, there he was. Helping me learn to drive a stick shift. Getting out of the car at a stop sign on a hill to switch places because I decided I wasn't doing it anymore. He was there to walk me down the aisle, and was more emotional than I was, I think. His speech at my wedding was poignant, talking about how 23 years ago to the day, he and my mom had been bringing me home from the hospital.

(This was after Daddy twirled me at the end of our dance)

And he's been there for me since. When G and I would have a big fight and I didn't think I could do this any more, he was the one on the phone, calming me down, giving me advice. Because he and G are so much alike, he could offer suggestions on handling the problems we were having. He even now lets me prattle on about clothes, housing, decorating a new place.

My daddy is a quieter man. He talks much, but sometimes has a hard time saying the things he should. But I've never doubted his love, or that he's proud of me for the life I've made. And I love him, because for him I'll never be too big to curl up on his lap when I'm feeling small. I'll always be a daddy's girl. And I wouldn't want to be any other way.