At some point in time, every woman is “Daddy’ Little Girl.” Some grow out of it, some don’t. I may have a close relationship with my Mom but I’m still a Daddy’s Girl. As far back as I can remember my Dad has always been the smartest, handsomest man who would do anything for me.
He loves motorcycles. So, when I was very little, I loved motorcycles too. Until one day when I was 5 I fell off my very own kiddie dirt bike. I ran inside crying and swore never to ride again. There was never any pressure for me to get back on; thankfully my sister has that passion covered. So Dad and I have never really bonded over wheels of any kind. I tried to be interested but curiosity can only last so long. It hasn’t stopped me from sidling back up to those death-on-wheels machines every few years. Maybe this time I’d be ready? Well, a few years ago Dad took my sister, her friend and I out for a New Years ride around a dirt track and I fell off again. This time I tried claiming I slipped in mud but my eagle-eyed sister pointed out there were no skid marks. Busted. Obviously we’ll never bond over chrome fenders and ridiculously awesome gas mileage.
Dad is a genius. I’m convinced he’s comfortably ensconced somewhere between Mensa’s minimum requirement of an IQ of 130 and Eintstein’s brilliance. My awe and conviction that he has the answer to everything has never dissipated over the years. Me on the other hand, I’m a few points shy of being accepted into Mensa and it annoys the crap out of me. My Math skills maxed out at about grade 3 or 4 so once I came up against long division, Dad had to help me. Some nights we would spend hours on my Math homework, he patiently going over the same material while explaining why it was what it was. I still have no idea how he managed to answer “why” questions about the logistics of Mathematics. And talk about breaks! When I asked for a break to get a snack he’d blithely continue on teaching me…Stats. I was in grade 5! The only probability I cared about was my chances of getting to go outside to play. Then in high school, for my last year he lived in upstate NY and my Mom, sister and I lived in CT but every weekend he’d make the 5 hour drive to spend a day or two with us and during exams he would make that trip during the week some times. He’s my hero.
Then there’s the traveling. We moved a lot when I was little and I loved it. There were quite a few father-daughter trips like the time we went to Paris and London to celebrate my 13th birthday and on the way to London he bought a ticket the crew was raffling off for charity for the cockpit jump seat during take off. I spent the entire flight there talking with the co-pilot. There were other trips and we have some of the same countries on our “to see” lists so I hope there will be more to come. Perhaps this is our common ground.
Beyond all this, the stuff that makes my Dad who he is, he’s one of my strongest supporters. I’m incredibly lucky to have friends and family who love me and have supported my various crazy endeavours but Dad has always been there for me whether it was a baking misstep when I was 10 and put baking soda instead of baking powder (or was it the other way around?) in our dessert muffins to this past Friday when I had my first experience being let go from a job that was to be the pinnacle of my career. He’s let me make my own mistakes, has supported me as I tried to develop my career or build a practice and hasn’t questioned my decisions. So in short, I have the best Dad I could ever ask for. It doesn’t hurt that his Dad jokes are pretty awesome too.
Bubba, you have set the bar high and my standards are pretty strict. No wonder I’m still single!
Dad and I- England 2009
My favourite things about Dad:
1. Flowers for no reason
2. He has no problem walking Yesterday. In the fall. When she’s wearing her bright pink coat. That’s love.
3. He’ll drop anything to help his daughters and close friends.
4. He has a big heart.
5. Dad jokes. My other favourite inherited trait.
6. Chicken soup. The only thing that makes me feel better when I’m sick.
7. I know he’s the father that every kid secretly wants.
There are countless more but these are the best of the best. Happy Father’s Day.
12 Novels in 12 Months 