It’s been nearly twenty
years since I recall my father going on an overnight business trip. I don’t
remember the destination. It could have been Minneapolis, Cincinnati or
Kalamazoo. I have postcards and mementos from all three cities. My dad didn’t
often go out of town, but when he did my sister and I made his homecoming a
welcome one. The memory that stands out most is when we picked him up from
dropping off his rental car one year. Our mother, always the creative one,
suggested we perform a song for dad on the way home. Her idea was to change the
lyrics to Brenton Wood’s “Baby You Got It”—and so the song became, “Daddy You
Got It”. I wish I still had the recreated lyrics on hand to share. I know our
dad got a kick out of our performance, and I am sure he recalls that memory
with a smile. I am also pretty certain my dad still made time to throw around
the softball with me upon his return. He was always available like that.
Dad has been supportive
and appreciative of all our thoughtful efforts. As the only man in a household
of three women, my father is also a patient, good sport. He has shaped me into
being tougher and stronger. My dad has taught me to never cut corners, how to
fight for what is meaningful and that courage can get me through any obstacle.
His words have carried a lot of weight to me throughout the years. It was my
father who pointed out how I am braver than I think I am. Every time I’d fall
down, he would remind me of that. He still does remind me. Dad was there for us
when mom was sick with breast cancer. He was there when I threw my first pitch
in a real softball game. He comforted me when my favorite football team lost
the Superbowl. Dad dropped me off when I went to the junior prom and first
overnight tennis camp. He was there to pick me up from the train station after
my first job interview and on my last day of college. Dad hasn’t missed any
milestone in my life, though I am told he nearly missed me being born (those
hospital cafeterias have a way of distracting him). My dad is more than just a
father though. He is a talented photographer, a retired accountant, an astute
WWII buff, a great softball coach, a fan of the Yoohoo beverage, an eyewitness
to 9/11, degreed in undergraduate psychology, a former paper carrier (just like
me) and a man who was the first to tell me I am beautiful. I may be biased as
his little girl, but my father is one of the best men I know. Happy Father’s
Day to my dad, and to all other fathers who help influence the lives of their
children.
“But mama didn’t raise
no fool and I should know”
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