Father's Day

It’s Father’s Day.

My dad isn’t here - he's in Hawaii right now - but I’m thinking about him today. I know I blog a lot about things that shouldn’t really matter, but I figure if it helps someone by making them laugh or to see a similarity in their own situation and know they aren’t alone, then I’ve done my job. But today is not about me. It’s about my dad – the best dad on the planet.

My dad is a great guy. He’s the kind of guy every girl should hope to meet. I’m sure he isn’t perfect, and my mom will probably attest to that, but he has good morals, values, is responsible, has a great sense of humor, is smart (I mean, he knows EVERYTHING) and no matter how hard things might have been when we were growing up, he never quit – life, work or family.

My dad was a single dad by the time he was 25-years old. My brother and I were still toddlers. I’m sure he had no idea what he was doing, but he didn’t pawn us off on family so he could experience being in his mid-20s as a single guy. I don’t remember much about the time before he met my step-mom (an amazing woman whom I just call mom because she is mom), but when he was stationed in Korea on an unaccompanied tour, we went with him – and stayed in the barracks until we were caught and he had to live out on the economy. Or something like that.

We weren’t rich, there were times he had to work more than one job and sometimes we didn’t get what we wanted. But he always made sure we had what we needed. We went to church, ate meals at a table and not in front of a TV and went on family vacations. We have family photo albums that are not on the computer.

He never tried to be our friend more than he was our dad, raising us to be good, responsible adults. My brothers turned out to be just like him. Even though my middle brother is taken, anyone who gets to my little brother will be a lucky girl.

I might have failed being a responsible adult, but it wasn’t his fault. And he’s always been behind me, helping me pick up the pieces leftover from my terrible decisions. I never have to tell him when I need to talk to him, it’s like he knows and he always knows what to say. Sometimes I might not want to hear it, but I always appreciate it and eventually concede that he’s right.

He’s like that with all of us. And for that and more, I love him. 

In honor of Father’s Day and my dad, I am going to share just a few of my favorite memories of my dad:

My dad loves Led Zeppelin. I’m ambivalent about them. However, one time he was dropping me off at the train station to go back to boarding school and he had an LZ tape in (yes, I said tape). He sang the first line of the song before getting out of the car to check the train schedule, his intent being to start the music when he got back in the car. When he got out, I switched the tapes and put a Beatles one in so when he pressed play ... Hahaha. I actually didn't do that twice. 

My dad bringing me my first walkman and Madonna tape for my 16th birthday when he came back from TDY.

"What?!" is how he answered the phone once we had caller ID. 

It was my first summer in North Carolina and I was recruited to be his battle buddy to a 4^th of July mandatory fun event at … I don’t know, probably Smith Lake. I didn’t do anything or eat anything until I saw a super cute, shirtless guy sit down at a table. My dad was nowhere in sight. So, I decided to grab a plate and put  myself in a position to get to know this guy who, incidentally, had a red devil tatted on his left pectoral muscle. Then, like magic, my dad materializes out of nowhere and sits next to me. When I suggest he go help clean up, he realizes my motive and immediately goes on a rant about what he would do to the guy who would take his daughter out. It was smooth, funny and embarrassing at the time time. I wish I could remember word for word what he said, but I was busy giving him the silent treatment on the way home, even when he threatened to call the guy, who happened to be one of his soldiers, to make him take me out. I didn't date in high school.

When I finally bought my dad something he could use – a Norelco shaver – for Christmas one year. It’s the only gift I’ve ever bought him that wasn’t terrible.

Going to lunch with my dad when he had his computer shop on Bragg Blvd. 

The first time he babysat my daughter when I went on a job interview. He took her to McDonald’s and shopping. When I went to pick her up, he had bought her a few things at the store. When I asked him why he did that, he looked at me helplessly and said something to the effect of, “She said you told her to beg me to get her stuff.” It might not have been those exact words, but I remember telling her not to beg Grampa to buy her anything because she already had a lot of stuff.

We had my daughter’s 3^rd birthday party at the skating rink. She disappeared and my dad helped me look for her. We found her sitting atop the boys urinal. My dad walked away. I think that’s the first time I heard him belly laugh.

All the times my dad would skype or facetime me from some new phone or tablet and tell me all about some new gadget that came out and how useful it was or wasn't going to be. And pretending to know exactly what he was talking about while I was Googling it to keep up. 

Hearing my dad tell me he loves me for the first time since ... forever last year was kind of amazing. And the only thing I needed to hear to get my ass back on track with my priorities. 

I didn't see my dad enough when he was here. 

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I wish I could be with you right now.