Thoughts on my father

I am quite sure there is no better father in the world than my own. I used to, and still do, marvel at his character, integrity and heart. Of course, no one is perfect, but my dad comes as close as I’ve ever seen or will see in this life. I’m sure he would deny and hem and haw that this is not true but don’t listen. It is as true as a truth can possibly be.

I will admit that it can be hard to live up to. There is a fear of disappointing such a man and being less than what he raised you to be. I hope I never do that.

I know full well how fortunate I was to be raised in such a stable, solid and loving home. So many others didn’t have this blessing and it has become the exception rather than the rule. That is the greatest gift he and my mother gave to my brother and me.

I like to think that I’ve made him proud. Proud of me even as he wonders where this gutsy country-turned-city-girl came from. But there’s no denying that I’m his daughter. The expressive brown eyes, the height, the long thin fingers that really should have played piano but never got around to it. And those feet! I have his long, thin, flat as a pancake feet!

This quote always makes me think of my dad…

There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.  ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994

and this one…

A father is always making his baby into a little woman.  And when she is a woman he turns her back again.  ~Enid Bagnold

It may be Father’s Day Dad and I hope you have a wonderful one, but know that I feel the same about you every day of the year.

Oh, and your card is in the mail. Really. I love you.

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