What do you get your dad for his birthday when he already has everything he wants?
And if he doesn't, he buys it. To make matters worse, he doesn't buy himself this little present in June. He does it smack dab in the center of Holiday season. I guess it's not entirely my dad's fault that his birthday is December 12, but even if it wasn't, Christmas is right around the corner.
Do dads live to make their daughter's lives harder? Is it payback for all the years of spoiling and "Daddy, can I have this?" with the puppy dog eyes and devilish grin? Is there some weird satisfaction they get out of the tables being turned and their little girls finally not knowing what to do to make them happy?
My dad's turning 60. The big 6-0. (Sorry dad if you didn't want anyone to know. But the secret's out and I don't think you look a day past 40).
The 60th birthday is usually a pretty widely celebrated one, right? I feel like that's what I've heard and seen in movies anyway. Should I be throwing my dad some golf-themed surprise party with all of his friends from college? Or should I be pretending like I don't care because he really doesn't like that much attention anyway?
Well, regardless of what he might have wanted for this birthday, he has me as his present. I go to school about only an hour and a half away from him and I woke up yesterday morning so sick. I'm talking unable to move, eat, or drink kind of sick. And you know what my dad wanted to do? He wanted to come pick me up from school and take care of me all weekend, on his birthday. I guess that's what parents are supposed to do. They're supposed to still want to take care of you at any age, at any time, but to this day, it still baffles me how they can be that selfless.
So I took him up on his offer and I'm currently laying on my bed in my old room, pondering that my dad is about to be 60. And me? Three weeks from now I'll be 20 years old. How is it even possible to have a 40 year age difference between us and still feel so close? How is it possible for him to be turning 60 when he doesn't look a day over 40 or act a day over 12?
My dad and I have always argued about who loves each other more; although I don't believe that time has to do with everything, my dad has been loving me for 20 full years. And even though I know I've loved him that whole time as well, he knew what love was when I was born and when he held me in his arms for the first time and when he breathed in my new baby smell. I didn't know what love was two minutes after I was born, I just knew that once I could open my eyes and I looked into his, I knew that I'd never have to look away.
And 20 years later I've found that to be true. Every little girl has a different relationship with her dad, but as the years have changed and as I've grown from a little pipsqueak to a college sophomore, and my dad has changed from 40 to 60, I've never had to look away. Our love isn't about being there constantly. It's about knowing that even when you're not together, you're there.
Our love is about the good times and the bad. It encompasses all the times he can be proud of me for the young woman I've become. But more importantly, it's still love when he's disappointed in something I did or how my semester grades turned out.
Our love is about trust. I can tell him things that most other kids know they shouldn't tell their parents. Like, "Hey dad! I'm going to a fraternity's formal in Atlantic City next week. I'll tell you the hotel and venue, don't worry."
Our love is about that worrying that ensues anyway. When you love someone, you worry - no matter how much you trust them.
Our love is about sending care packages and leaving voicemails. When I stand in the mailroom, I don't even have to tell them my box number. I point to a little pink package and tell them that's mine - because it's the same one every single time.
Our love is the love where he cries every time I send him anything remotely sentimental. I send him sweet pictures from Pinterest or links to songs on youtube and he replies that he's crying.
Our love is, surprisingly, also the type where he cries when I leave him. I never thought I'd find it hard to leave America to study in Italy for the summer, but my weeping father behind me almost had me running back into his arms.
Our love is sharing that piece of chocolate cake - and trying to make the other eat the last bite even though we both know we want it.
Our daddy-daughter love is about laughter and falling asleep watching Friends. Our love is about shopping together, loving it, and splitting caramel candy apples. Our love is about loving watching movies together, but falling asleep 30 minutes in. It's about picking each other up when we're down, calling just to say hi, and knowing that a hug is never too far away. It's about being each other's biggest fans, no matter what. And it's about knowing what each other wants without even having to ask.
My dad said that all he wanted for his birthday was to wake me up the way he used to. He wanted to rub his scratchy face against my neck, tickle me, and wake me up with laughter and the kind of smiles that hurt your face.
I guess I knew what he wanted after all.
Happy 60th daddy. Thanks for being my always love and making it easy to never look away.
