Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Sad to say it, but my card for you is on the floor right now–addressed and ready to go…without a stamp. So, I’m a little behind. I’m using my crutches as an excuse on that one. Hopefully you’ll get it in the mail this week.
In the meantime, let me tell all of you how happy I am to celebrate Father’s Day. My dad’s the greatest.
My Dad introduced me to country music. He hummed songs, he sang bits and pieces, he made up his own lyrics here and there, he bought the tapes, the cds, listened to the radio–it was all the music I knew until I turned 15 and tried to become alternative and cool. I rediscovered country music in college & slowly became more familiar with all of it. Now, it’s my favorite genre precisely because when I listen to it, I feel like I’m home–especially that 80s country (Reba, George, Randy, Dolly, etc…so gooood!)
My dad once forced me to order a donut by myself. I was a shy kid. Heck, I’m still pretty shy on some days (quiet, I like to say). But one day when I was 7 or 8, we went to my favorite donut store to get a donut. I wanted a second, but my dad said I could only have it if I ordered it. For me, the idea of speaking up and ordering a donut seemed like the most daunting task in the whole world. There were tears involved. But if there’s one thing that will push me through my fears, it’s my dad (and donuts). He’s got an unending sense of faith in my capabilities, which I often doubt. I’m glad he expects great things from me. It helps to push me forward on days when I feel like not facing my fears.
My dad is incredibly funny in his storytelling. He can throw a phrase or a sentence in that will completely crack me up & he just keeps on telling the story as if he doesn’t notice how funny he is. He’s made humor one of the cornerstone’s of our household, & it’s served me well. It has made me a pretty joyful person. Or at least one who laughs really loudly all the time.
My dad has a wall of fame for me at home. I never played many sports growing up, or won many trophies (I think I have one from bowling…who gets a trophy for bowling?)–but my dad has made a beautiful collection of medals, race numbers, & pictures of me running/racing/triathlon-ing. I don’t spend much time looking at it. It’s a little embarrassing. But I continue to send him my medals and pictures, so I think he and I both knows how much it means to me.
My dad bought me a hard-to-find Judds’ single “I know where I’m going” when I was a kid just because I wanted it REAL bad. We were in Lubbock–he was working to open up his second store & I was rollerskating around that store, pretending to be an Olympian (thanks to the white skates he bought me at the nearby toy store). Later on, I had mentioned the song, & he searched multiple places to find it for me. It means something so special to me when someone will go out of their way simply to bring me joy. And Dad does this all the time.
My dad gave me a peacock statue several years ago. The peacock had a variety of outfits you could dress him in, depending on the approaching holiday/season. I found it to be a really strange gift (my first reaction to most of my dad’s gifts), but I found myself looking forward to changing the outfits as the months rolled along. I really missed that peacock when I had to pack my car and drive away from L.A. for the first time. I have no idea where he is. But I’ve learned my lesson. No matter how strange, I always keep my Dad’s presents. They have such a sense of humor about them (really, Dad–the Ed Hardy TIGER shirt!!), & as I said before–it’s good to be reminded to not taking things so seriously.
My dad was at the finish line of the marathon I did in March. The last 1/4 mile was just filled with spectators…I knew he was going to be there, but I was worried he wouldn’t see me. I searched the crowd & when I heard his voice yell my name & looked over to see him– it brought me such pure happiness (which is hard to come by after 26 miles). He is my biggest cheerleader. Well, he’s pretty much tied with my mom. I’ll never forget that day, with them both there just to support me.
So to my dad on Father’s Day, all I can really say is thank you! And I love you!