Growing up, my dad travelled a lot for work. He still does, actually. Sometimes, I think that that’s why I clung to him when he came home. I wouldn’t see him for weeks and when he’d come home, sometimes it was only for a few days at a time so seeing him was very special for me.
As I got older, I never grew out of that. In fact, my relationship with my dad grew stronger because of technology. When I was young, I would talk to him in the morning and at night, and he would send postcards and cards to let me know that he missed me. Now, we text 24/7, we harass each other with phone calls and we Skype if his hotel wi-fi allows him to.
When he’s home, I go everywhere with him. I accompany him to the store, to the gas station and to the pharmacy. We sit together for hours, alternating between making fun of each other, watching Netflix and cooking.
We spend a lot of time going to heavy metal concerts and traveling. Those are probably the moments I value the most. My dad passed onto me his love for music and travelling and to experience these things with him is a true honor. We often go to cities that he’s already visited and it’s the best thing ever when he tells me stories of what Seattle, Washington looked like 20 years ago to what he and his father (my Papou) did together in Jacksonville, Fla. when they worked there.
My favorite times with my dad are when we’re in the car and I put on his playlist that I made just for him. A Marc Cohn song or Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers song will come on and he gets a serene look on his face while he sings along. Sometimes, he looks over at me and gives me a soft smile while there’s a break between the lyrics.
I told him once that he was my best friend, a few years ago. He looked at me strangely before saying that he shouldn’t be, that Caity or Nadia should. That’s true, they are. But no one’s been there for me as much as my dad has. He holds me when I’m sick and when I cry. He holds me when everything’s perfectly fine. He drops everything to get to me in the blink of an eye if need be and he endures Disney movies and Disney vacations for me.
I know that I whine a lot and that I’m a pain in his ass, but he’s one in mine, too. I know he wouldn’t have it any other way though and neither would I.
