It's no secret that I'm a Daddy's Girl. I mean, my mom and I have a fabulous relationship, but I am always Daddy's Girl. I love my mom to no end, but there is something different about the love a daughter has for her father, especially when she has as good a father as I do (though, being somewhat biased, I find it hard to imagine that anyone could have a better father than I do).
I applaud my mother for seeing the man my father would become in the boy he was. I thank her, to no end, for recognizing that he was the best husband for her and the best father for her future children.
It's also no secret that, to me, my father is a hero, nor that, for better or for worse, I am entirely his child.
In honor of Father's Day, some stellar things about my daddy:
Three Beautiful Things About My Father
1) He loves me without question and without judgment. He listens to me as I make my decisions and gives me advice when I ask for it. He lets me make my own mistakes and live my own life, stepping only when he sees me making the same mistakes he did, cautioning me about the possible negative outcomes.
2) He loves my mother wholeheartedly.
3) He is a good and honorable man. He taught me to give my all, to try my best and to always, always, act with honor and justice.
Three Beautiful Things About Being My Father's Daughter
1) I get to have his hair color, his eye color, a feminine version of his build, and his walk. This means my legs are strong, that I'm built for running and swimming, that I may be described as long and lean. My feet are not big. My knees are knobby and distinctive. My ankles are weak. I wouldn't change a single thing.
2) Being both an only child and a girl close to her father, I have learned a great deal about what to look for in my future husband. I would never date, or moreover marry, a man my father did not respect. I hope I have even a fraction of my father's judge of character.
3) I also inherited his style of thinking, which means that I am not alone in seeing the world with my own particular, peculiar perspective.
Three Beautiful Things About Being a Daddy's Girl
1) My father would do anything for me. Anything. Anytime. Any place. Thus far, this has involved picking me up from out-of-the way places, lifting heavy objects, having a house filled with a menagerie of pets and threatening to beat up one particularly obnoxious teacher in high school.
2) I know the proper way that a gentleman should treat a lady.
3) I know a heck of a lot more about cars and sports than a lot of women (yes, my love for baseball also comes from my mama, but what can I say, she chose well!).
Three More, Just for Good Measure
1) Watching Daddy walk through the hallway at work, proud, strong, confident in his ability, and seeing people toss admiring glances his way.
2) Knowing that I already know the song for the Father-Daughter Dance at my far-off wedding and knowing that it is the absolute perfect choice (and I'm not telling anyone until that day comes).
3) Knowing that he's saved me a hundred times or more from danger I didn't even know existed. No matter what, no matter what husband may enter my life, Daddy will be my hero.
The Three Best Pictures
1) In the NICU in the hospital where I was born. Me, as a newborn, several weeks early, looking like a tiny little eggplant in his large, solid, dependable hands. Him, young (younger than I am now), with no gray hair, no wrinkles whatsoever, wearing a yellow hospital cover-all and a look of complete and utter excitement on his face as he ponders the future of his brand new baby daughter.
2) The backyard in our first house. It's him, me and our beloved dog Fanny. He's kneeling on one leg, and I'm scooted in close to him with my elbow on his bent knee. Fanny's on his other side. He and I are grinning, and Fanny looks pleased as punch to be getting the attention.
3) My college graduation. Side by side. He's in his black leather jacket and a Cal hat (Go Bears!), and I'm still in my graduation regalia, blonder-than-usual hair (something I'll never do again). He looks proud. I look relieved. We both look a little bit scared about getting back in the caravan of vehicles and heading back home to deal with the mish-mash of crazy relatives.