Yesterday was my dad's birthday. I, his only daughter, forgot to write his birthday post (but didn't forget to wish him a happy birthday!). What triggered my memory was when I was watching a movie where a woman is working on a poem about her father. Her 8 year old daughter suggests that she add that he was her "very very very very very favorite person." That, of course, reminded me of my own dad.
It is hard to sum up my Dad in one little bloggy post. There is no doubt that I am his and he is mine. Since I was a baby, I've looked very much like him. When I bite my nails, I have his hands. I have the same brown eyes. Our bottom teeth are crooked in the same pattern (I should have worn my retainer better). We tease him about the calculator that sits beside his chair. You can watch the wheels of his mind turn, and soon the calculator is in hand. I wish that I had inherited his mind for business! He has a penchant for naps and breakfast foods and has the most ticklish feet of anyone I've ever known. He built a dollhouse with real glass windows when I was three, and a playhouse with real storm windows when I was 8 (I think I was 8?). Little did he know the precedent that set - in my first real house, he replaced all the windows! Early in life, I learned that the magic word wasn't "please." It was "Daddy." He patiently sang Silent Night to me at bedtime as I thought it was a lullaby. My dad taught me how to drive, bought me my first car, and helped me wash it - you've got to use some elbow grease! - he would remind his lazy daughter. He instilled in me the importance of education and put me through college - twice! He was endlessly patient, although our sameness meant that we often butted our stubborn heads together. Still do, occasionally, but only because there's so much him in me.Before the wedding, my dad and I debated whether or not we were going to do the Father/Daughter dance. He is not a dancer, nor am I. We considered the easy way out, but finally settled on dancing. He got some dancing lessons from our good friends, and the night of the wedding, we danced. And I'm so glad we did. It is a moment I'll never forget. Happy birthday, Daddy. I'm sorry this is late! Love you lots.