Daddy's day

So, I was driving to Starbucks early this morning when I heard something on the radio that I found both funny and interesting.  Never mind the fact that I'm not supposed to have caffeine — I just wanted a chai tea and felt justified buying one since I had to finish up a paper (the one I was blocked from writing yesterday) and didn't get a good night's sleep, thanks to my cold, tuberculosis, pneumonia, polio, ebola, etc. (to be clear, I don't know what I have, but it's been keeping me from sleeping well, so I needed some caffeine to get started.  Of the aforementioned afflictions, I think a cold is most likely the real culprit).  Anyways, on my way to Starbucks, I heard that the most long distance phone calls are made on Mother's Day, while the most collect calls are made on Father's Day.  It made me laugh, but it also got me thinking about the different roles our parents play and the impact they've had on our lives.  And while it's obvious that our mothers (or mamas as we like to call them in the South) are hugely important, I think that we as a society don't give our dads enough credit.

My dad has given me so much.  Not just material possessions — although he has given me a lot financially (probably more than he'd like) — but also things that have helped shape me into who I am today.  Like personality traits.  And character.  And faith.  And love.

When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that "I was so much like my father."  I hated it when she said this.  Because my dad, believe it or not, isn't perfect .  He can be stubborn, impatient, and quick to anger.  Sometimes he says things that he regrets.  And when I was a teenager, I didn't want to be anything like that at all.

See, I was stupid as a teenager (I know — shocking, right?).  Because when my mom would say that to me, I thought she was only referring to the negatives.  I didn't want to be compared to my dad.  I thought I was different — open-minded, tolerant, and sensitive to everything and everyone.  I didn't understand that whenever my mom told me I was like my dad, she was paying me a huge compliment.

Although not perfect, my dad is wonderful.  He may be stubborn and quick to anger, but he's also quick to apologize and to forgive.  He's intelligent.  He's loving.  He's caring.  He's dedicated.  He's thoughtful.  He's everything a dad should be.

When we were little, my dad used to play guitar for my brother and I.  I have great memories of those nights.  He also took plenty of time to play with us when he got home from work, no matter how tired he was (after working in the real world for a couple years, I understand how tired he must have been, but it never showed — he always had time and energy for us).  We always had family dinners.  And my dad spent a ton of time coaching my brother's little league team and basketball team, and he'd always be ready to hit a ball with us or shoot some hoops in the backyard.  He used to let us sit on his lap and "drive" around the block.  He tickled us, flipped us, and spun us around.  And he prayed over us at bedtime every single night.

These are just little things that you don't really think about as a kid.  They're just part of your life, and it's what I came to know and expect.  But now that I'm an adult, I realize just how important those little things were, and I realize just how lucky I am to have the father I do.

Every extra minute he spent with me as a kid helped shape me into the woman I am today.  His unwavering love taught me that I'm valuable, and I don't have to settle into a bad relationship or sacrifice anything to feel like I'm worth something in this world.  His desire for excellence gave me a desire for excellence.  His confidence in me gave me confidence in myself.  His faith helped shape my faith.  And his dedication to our family helped me understand what a family really is.

My family's not perfect — far from it.  But that doesn't keep me from thanking God everyday for giving me the family I have.  And my dad has a lot to do with that.

My dad, wonderful as he is, couldn't do everything for me when I was little, though.  Like teach me to ride a bike, for instance.  Try as he might, my father could not teach me to ride a bike.  But lucky for me, my brother could.  He also taught me how to drive a stick shift.  I will never forget the first time we left the church parking lot and I went out on the road.  I stalled out for an entire traffic light, and there was a car behind me.  I was freaking out.  Jeff just sat calmly in the passenger's seat, telling me to push the clutch in, turn the key, and slowly let off the clutch while gently pushing the accelerator.  He did this for what must've been a minute straight — while I kept pushing the clutch in, turning the key, and promptly stalling out.  The only time he stopped this mantra was to tell me to calm down, to not worry about the driver behind me — after all, I paid taxes on that road too (although I really don't think I did, since I was in college at the time and unemployed).  Still, he got me to calm down and to get the car in gear.  And that remains the only time I've ever stalled out at a stoplight.

I wanted to include that because my brother's a dad too, and I know he'll do a great job teaching his daughter how to ride a bike and drive a car because he did such a great job with me.  That, and because he had a great dad to learn from.

Sure, my dad and I still argue, and we can get under each other's skin like no other.  That's only because we're so similar, though.  And like I said before, I think that's a good thing.  I'm glad that I'm like my father, and I hope I can continue to learn from the lifelong example he's set.  I'll be proud if I ever become even half the person that my dad is today.

So, on this Daddy's Day, I just want to thank my father for everything he's taught me, sacrificed for me, and given to me.  I wouldn't be where or who I am today without him.