The enclosed picture is one of my very favorites. Obviously, this was taken on my wedding day. You remember, don't you? We danced to Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" - our song. It's always been our song. We shuffled around the dance floor singing to each other. I remember, in that moment, wanting to be a little girl again. Isn't that ironic? There I am, in the middle of a significant rite of passage into adulthood, wanting to rewind the clock.
When my sister and I were little girls, you sat us down at least once a week and asked us, "What are you going to do when you grow up?" You trained us real good, because I distinctly remember saying, with all the confidence a 7-year-old could muster, "I am going to go to college, get a good job, get married, and have kids... in that order." You would always nod your head in approval, "That's my girl." Except, I upped the anti and married a man just like you. How's that for ironic? I like to think that's my little thank you... the son you always wanted.
You wanted a son so bad, didn't you? But, instead, fate gave you two daughters. My sister is the sensitive, thoughtful writer; and then there was me, the girly-girl who never really knew what she wanted to be. You bought LEGO Mindstorm (holla to my 90's kids!) and tried your hardest to teach me computer programming. I didn't want anything to do with any of it because "it didn't come in pink and couldn't play my BSB cds (holla, again!)" Nevertheless, you loved me just the same.
You were never a lovey-dovey, super affectionate person. Honestly, I can't remember us actually saying 'I love you' to each other while I was growing up. But, I always knew you loved me. That was never a question, ever. I knew you loved me when you shared your chocolate ice cream with me after a hard day at school because you didn't share it with anyone else. I knew you loved me when you took me to every Father-Daughter dance and danced to the Backstreet Boys with me when I know it's not your favorite song. I knew you loved me when you hugged me even after I had made some pretty huge mistakes. You were there for me and accepted me for who I was. You never turned your back on me even when I was lost.
Dad, I am everything I am because of you and Mom. Now that I am a parent, I finally understand the sacrifices you both have given over the years for my sister and me. Having experienced that all-consuming, unconditional love that only a parent knows, I am speechless beyond words and love you so much more for it.
So, I dedicate this Father's Day to you, Dad. I love you.
