When I was little people used to tell me, oohhh, you look sooo much like you’re father (emphasis added for accuracy of the statement). Well, when you’re a seven year-old girl with short brown curly hair, it does not do much to help your self-esteem when old, well-meaning women, tell you that you look like your dad. Because at seven all I knew was that my dad was a boy and I did not want to look like a boy.
Twenty years later I probably still look like my dad, but I am also who I am today because of him.
I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl. I remember Saturday morning breakfast dates, garage sale shopping and dancing in the backyard. He taught me that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure and that you don’t have to finish every book you start. He taught me the art of driving on LA freeways and the art of driving on green golf courses. Sadly, I never took up golfing, but I can manage a golf cart just fine.
My dad is patient, resourceful and just downright positive. In the morning he whistles and sings (just because) and in the evening he usually watches Jay Leno and the golf channel. I learned from a young age to root for anyone playing against USC and that sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
My dad has a way of putting life in perspective. When I am excited about a 20% off sale his practical response is “You’ll save 100% if you don’t buy anything.” Growing up he rarely told me what to do, but he always said “Be wise.”
His current loves include golf, yoga and my mom. Probably not in that order. My dad cares about the four of us kids well. He has supported us, prayed for us and been present in our lives. He still has a hard time remembering the names of our friends or where we went last weekend. I don’t think details are his strong point. Sometimes he gets distracted in conversations, but he means well. We make fun of him for his love of binoculars, bad jokes and his inability to pronounce last names.
My dad is the first person I call if my car breaks down and one of the best huggers I know. If I have half of his confidence, faith and sense of humor I’ll be content.
Thanks, Dad. Happy Father’s Day!