My Dad
Growing up, I was such a Daddy’s girl. I wanted to be just like my dad, so I was a major tomboy. When I was little, I never wanted to wear a shirt around the house, because my dad never did. My dad just wore shorts… so I just wore shorts. I got into my mom’s makeup once, and used the eye-shadow to draw a mustache, because my dad had a mustache. Everything my dad did was so cool, and I wanted to be just like him. He’s my dad… that made him the coolest person on the planet.
My dad is an amazing, loving, and supportive father. My entire life, he’s always told me that I could be anything I wanted to be, giving me the confidence to follow my dreams. My dad has never allowed me to put myself down… telling me, “Above all else, be proud of who you are.” Few people are lucky enough to have a dad like that, but for whatever reason, God gave the best dad to me.
“I love you!”
“You can do it!”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“You’re an Owen. There’s nothing an Owen can’t do.”
On Christmas Day, Santa Clause would always leave us a note on the mantle, with hints to help us find our “big” present. I was always amazed that Santa’s handwriting looked so much like my dad’s. I just assumed Santa was left-handed too.
My dad is such a funny guy, and he could always make me laugh, even when I was mad at him. He’s really just a big kid at heart... and despite my mom’s annoyance at this sometimes, I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. In all honesty, he tries to annoy us... He’ll be doing something ridiculous, like whistling really loudly for no reason, and I’ll say, “Dad, could you please stop?” To which he’ll reply, “Stop what?” And whistle even louder. My brother does the exact same thing. Multiply that out by 26 years… and you’ll see why I have very little patience at this point.
As an adult, I can really appreciate those trips we took, because I could never afford them now. And a lot of our favorite family memories were made on some of Dad’s crazy vacations.
My dad is a hard man to argue with, which has been a good quality for him, but bad for my brother and I. In disputes, Dad thought he was right, and Matt and I thought we were right. But lucky for Dad… he was the dad, so by default, he won every time. We soon learned that pouting only works with Mom, because when Dad says “No,” it does NOT mean “Yes.” Very early on, I decided that the words “Because I said so,” were a mild form of child abuse. Now, I’m tempted to say those very words to my dogs.
My mom has always been the more rational parent, while my dad has more of a stubborn fire inside. I turned out to be a mix of both… I’m a rational thinker with a stubborn streak. But looking at my dad now, I can see that he really isn’t that stubborn… he just fights for what he believes in. And if he believes in his kids being home at midnight, then your ass better be in the door by 11:59. I was constantly grounded for being late for curfew, and I’m not quite sure why I couldn’t grasp the concept. It seems pretty simple… if I stay out late tonight, then by the time I can leave the house again, my friends won’t remember what I look like. At the time, curfew seemed ridiculous, but now, I can admit that my dad was right. Few legal things were happening for us teenagers after midnight.
My high school years were a tough time for my dad and I. I was ready to grow up, and my dad wanted me to remain his little girl. He was desperately holding onto my childhood… and now I wish I would’ve held on a little longer too. That was a difficult time for my father, and back then, I couldn’t for the life of me understand him. But now, I can see that he just wanted to be a part of my life. I can also see that his “silly and ridiculous” rules weren’t really that silly or ridiculous. My dad just wanted us to be safe and responsible.
If I could go back in time and change ONE thing, I’d go back to 10 years ago… just to give my dad a hug, and say, “I love you, Dad, and I’m still your little girl.” Honestly, that’s all he needed to hear…
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life… many that I was ashamed to tell my dad about. But every time I’ve said, “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” my dad would say, “I’m proud of you no matter what, and you have never disappointed me.” I know he means that, even though I can’t for the life of me understand how, with all the stupid junk I’ve done.
I can see the joy in his heart for the daughter he raised, and the pride in his eyes for the woman I’ve become. And while I know that he gives my mom full credit for how I turned out, he’s leaving out one major piece of the puzzle. Because so much of me… is my dad…
And so much of my dad… is me…
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you, and I will always be your little girl.
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