You are loved.
You are the center of someone's universe.
I'm lucky, I have a great Dad. He's not perfect, none of us are...sometimes I swear we speak entirely different languages, but my love for him knows no bounds. Dad is a big man, over 6 feet tall, with a booming voice and a quick-wit. A Rat Pack era former jock, (but certainly no dumb bunny) Dad is opinionated, sarcastic, confident, and for the most part, has a sink or swim mentality. However, I'm the only daughter out of three kids. I quickly learned to work that system. For underneath that tough exterior was a bunch of tender-hearted goo that I had a direct tap into. I'll never forget how small I felt next to him, how my tiny hand would be lost in his great big paw, and how he held it so gently, like a butterfly cupped in his palm.
Perched on his knee, I felt invincible! Daddy's Princess and proud of it! Bring on the beasties, MY Da can take them all!!
Most of my memories are centered around him at the head of the kitchen table, arms crossed, drinking a beer, and making us all laugh. You probably won't find his parenting style in any book, it could be a bit unconventional, I remember a distinct lack of seat belts and an over abundance of profanity. In Dad's defense, he was like an artist with the swearing...it was his true medium, and he was very clear in explaining what was okay for him to say and we could say. The second thing we heard most, after: "What did Mom say?" and "Who told you life was fair? They lied, fare is a ride on a bus." was "because you're a kid, and I'm not. Life's rough all over, kid, get a helmet." The latter part, to this day, is still really good advice.
All along the way, though, there were definite perks to being Daddy's girl. I got to sleep later, always had a little spending money slipped to me on the sly, and he was the great equalizer in the war with my two bothers. There were moments like when he slipped into my bedroom one morning, very early before he went to work, and left dozens of little of weebles (little puff-balls with googly eyes, antennae and big sticky feet) all over me, my pillow, and dresser, to keep me company...he whispered when I woke briefly. Made me giggle all day.
If he ever harbored self doubt or insecurity, I never saw it. To me he was larger than life, unshakable. He shouldered every responsibility thrown at him, and more, without ever forgetting to value the small moments in life. He encouraged us to try hard at everything we did, but to lose with grace and to be more than our accomplishments. He is honest to the point of bluntness, gruff at times, but utterly charming when the occasion calls for it. He knew how to dress up, tell a great joke, and pour a stiff drink.
As I got older and life invariably gets more complicated, our relationship had it's ups and downs (mostly my fault), feelings were not something often discussed in our house, but I could see how helpless he felt in the face of my pain, and I knew with total certainty, all he wanted was for me to be okay. Now as he gets older and I am forced to watch him go through some of the challenges of later life, I finally, truly understand his desperation then, I feel it now. I just want him to be okay.
It's powerful, what a daughter feels for her father, the 1st man in her life. And although my husband and Dad are very different men, I still see all the qualities in my husband that I fell in love with in my Father. Honesty, integrity, humor, compassion, strength - these are all things they have in common.
Dad and I don't agree on everything, but we don't need to, love is like that...come as you are.
Forever my Dad will be;
The 1st man to tell me I was pretty, and mean it from the bottom of his heart.
The 1st man I danced with.
The 1st man who held my hand, and put my happiness above his own.
The 1st man to steal my heart.
Thanks, Dad. I love you.
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