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If someone had suggested that I look for a guy like my dad about ten or
fifteen years ago, I would have put my finger in my mouth and pretended
to gag. Not that Dad wasn't a decent guy; he just cramped my style then.
All my friends thought Dad was cool when I was a teenager. He could fix anything, a jack of all trades. His occupation was as a manager of a place that installed car stereos, alarms and other auto electronics. So I always had a good sound system in my car, or in the house, and Dad wasn't shy about turning the rock up full blast, much to the delight of my friends. He would work on their cars, tease them, and was generally interested in what they had to say. What I didn't know then was that my friends didn't have the kind of Dad I did, one that was actually there for them. My parents are still married; thirty years this year. I was the only one of my friends whose parents weren't divorced, and I didn't realize how fortunate I was. I only saw the father who took glee in intimidating my dates, answering the door to them with an axe slung over his shoulder, or actually menacingly growled when they entered the house. I saw the father who wasn't afraid to spank my butt when I was out of line, even as a teenager. I saw the father who liked to play practical jokes on me, usually in front of my friends. Dad was so not cool to me then. Now I can truly look back and appreciate the kind of father I had. He was there, the breadwinner and the disciplinarian. He didn't drink, gamble, womanize or abuse us. Dad taught me about humor, storytelling, John Wayne and B-grade science fiction movies. He taught me about cars and electronics. He talked to me, shared his artwork with me, and woke me up to get ready for school in the mornings. He showed me that men could cook, sew, and dress Barbie dolls. He shared my childlike delight in Halloween, teaching me how to do make-up. He plucked my eyebrows for me, shared my musical tastes. When you consider that Dad didn't have a relationship with his own father, it's pretty amazing that he turned out to be such a great dad. He's still there for me, sometimes calling me up just to talk, emailing a joke, or working on my car. And all of these things I remember from my childhood that he shared with me, he now shares with my own children, who are unfortunately not involved with their fathers. My dad is one in a million; he'd talk your ear off if you'd let him, and do just about anything for you. I just wish there were more like him. Thanks for everything, Dad. Special thanks for letting me inherit the ornery glint in your eye and that mischievious smile. *wink* |
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