It's that time of year again. Father's Day. A special day dedicated to all Father's around the world where you celebrate how amazing your dad is. A day most look forward to but a day I wish I could sleep through. I lost my dad about a year and a half ago and lucky me, his birthday and Father's day fall in the same week. Making a fairly interesting 7 days of highs and lows. However, I'm not here to write a sob story about how much I miss my dad or to list the 1,000,000 things I would give up for another second with him (because he would be royally pissed at the thought of me sulking around for a week), instead I'm going to share a couple fond memories I have with my favorite guy.
*Disclaimer: for those who knew my dad, he was arguably the most amazing story-teller to ever live, but I am going to try my best to relay these stories half as well as he could have.
1. On a trip to visit my grandparents in rural North Carolina, my dad decided to take me on a drive through the blue ridge mountains. He has been hyping me up all week telling me about how many deer lived there and how we just might be able to see one. As any 6 year old would, the ENTIRE drive I was in the backseat repeating "Daddy, where are all the deer" and "Ummmm Dad you told me deer lived here, where the heck are they". I was driving the poor man crazy and on what probably felt like the 800th time I asked he turned around and blurted out "CARLY!!! The deer don't just walk right up to your car doors!". Before the last word even left his mouth, 5 deer emerged from the woods and walked directly up to our car window. He was absolutely in shock and I was absolutely delighted.
2. If this story isn't proof of how much my dad loved me then I don't know what is. On another trip to my grandparents house (a 12 hour drive), we stopped to grab some lunch along the way. I have always gotten carsick, especially when I was younger and had to sit in the backseat of the car. So when we pulled up to Sonny's BBQ I was already feeling a little queasy. I totally ignored my stomach and downed an entire jumbo hotdog and kid's sized coke. As we were getting ready to leave I looked at my dad and said "I think I'm gonna throw up". A typical dad would probably say something along the lines of "Run to the bathroom" but what did my dad do you ask? He cupped his hands together for me to throw up into in the middle of the restaurant. I still can't eat hotdogs to this day.
Lots of people tell me how much I remind them of him, especially when I visit the school he taught at. I like to think they are referring to my sense of humor and not that my hairline is receding. I obviously miss my dad more than most people could even understand and I go through my good and bad days but in the wise words of Ed Sheeran, a heart that's broken is a heart that's been loved.
