My Dad

I  think a lot about my parents as I have become a parent.  I realize how naturally parenting came to them.  I imagine, they weren't always exactly sure of how to navigate the waters we churned up, but we never knew that.  As I watch people try to learn how to parent differently than how their parents did it--due to poor parenting, difficult marriages, simple neglect--I am thankful for a mom and dad who modeled solid parenting.  Many days, I have ideas and responses to the kids which seem to come from out of the blue.  "Wow, how did I learn to do that?"  I give thanks, time and time again, that I watched two of the best for 37 years.

I don't think it would be any secret to many people that I am my Dad's Number One Daughter.  (play on words because, in fact I am his first born.)  I'm not a 'daddy's girl' in that syrupy sweet kind of way.  But I am my Dad's daughter.  We share some strong DNA bonds, and because of that I have felt his advocacy over the years.  In many a situation he was guiding me out of personal experience. 

I hear a lot of parents talk about how they need to be an advocate for their kids.  The current use of this phrase usually means they stand up for their kids in situations where the kid might have been better served by learning the consequences.  Or the parents say it when someone is giving them an answer they don't like about their child. 

I'm referring to advocacy that reflects that my Dad knew me.  He knew how I felt in his bones.  He understood my reaction as sure as he understood his own.  Knew that I was angry.  Knew why I was reacting.  Knew why I found it so fun or interesting.  Most of the time, he was experiencing a similar reaction to mine.  What makes him such a fantastic person, is that he guided me through-whateveritwasIwasdealingwith-by molding the best course.  Not the way he might have reacted at my age, or how he might want to react now.  He would give great thought and attention to what might be the best lesson/way to handle/what to say, so that I had skills for the next time.  So that somehow, we all grew and moved forward.  (moving forward is big with my family.)

Many years ago, when I started college, I met this very cute boy during the first week of school.  (this is not the cute boy I married.)  I remember finding a common bond over our father's work.  He said, "Oh, so you know what it like to have him gone all the time.  Messing up schedules and just being tired.  It's a pain." (this may not be a direct quote)  I agreed and nodded along.."Oh, yeah.  What a pain."  I sold my Dad out, all for a cute boy.  (i'm still friends with said boy and he did get me a date with my husband a few years later...but, this wouldn't be the last time I chose 'cute' over my family in my 20s.)  What I should have said was..."I know my Dad was busy, but he was always there."

He wasn't always there, of course.  In most families, Dad's are gone most of the day.  Mine was physically gone for more than a typical work day.  He was gone at odd times and we did have to create some pretty goofy schedules to include him in activities.  But I don't remember this huge hole in my life where my Dad was always gone, or busy, or tired, or complaining about one of the above.  There is no drama with my Dad--at least not of the emotional kind.  He is no prima donna.  He never demanded special attention or to be handled with kid gloves.  I don't remember his absence because he was there.  When he was with us, he was with us.  He was into what we were into.  He was attentive to who we were.  When he was with us, it was about us--in a positive way.

Today, as we give thanks for our Father....and all those who are Fathers...I think my Dad.  I am his daughter. He is my Number One Dad.  For that I am more grateful than he will ever know.  Happy--everydayis--Father's Day, Dad!!