My Dad

I love my Dad. I can't let this day go by without honoring the man that gave me life. "They" say that women marry men like their fathers. I did. I married a man who is kind, caring, loving, funny, handsome, and stubborn as the day is long. I married a man just like my Dad. I wouldn't have it any other way.

My Mom and Dad were divorced when I was very young. I grew up seeing my Day during the summers and whenever I could. My Dad was in the Air Force for 22 years. I will say that I have never seen a man who looked as good in a uniform as my Dad. He had a way of making his uniform look proud to be on his body. My father carried himself with dignity, honor, and a whole lot of whoop ass. I have spent a lot of time on Air Force bases around the country and there was no one like my Dad.

I only have one memory of my Dad spanking me. Big Sis and I were living with him at the time, if I remember right, and we were outside playing with one of the neighbor kids. The UPS man pulled up and the neighbor started calling him Mr. Potato Head. Not to be left out, we did, too. He got mad, asked us where we lived and we told him. We were in big trouble. Dad never needed to do that again. As the years went by, the look on his face when we did something wrong was enough to make us feel very remorseful.

My Dad was always great about being involved in our lives. Even when we were teenagers and not very communicative, he would drag information from us. He treated my sister and I as two seperate people. If he sent her a letter, he sent me one. If he talked to her for twenty minutes on the phone, he talked to me for twenty minutes on the phone. He made sure he had the scoop from both of us. I always thought that was a fantastic thing for him to do.

My Dad took us to Hawaii. I remember going camping at the beach. Yes, I went camping. I was a kid, I didn't know any better. He got me my first coconut from the tree. He split it open, let it dry and cut it up. It was delicious. He took us to see the volcanoes, and the beaches, a luau. They buried a pig in the back yard and it was superb. Go Dad!

I have always loved to listen to my Dad sing and play. He plays by ear and is fantastic. We tried to teach him to read music, but he didn'tlike it. He liked his way better. He can play just about anything with strings. He can play guitar, mandolin, ukelele, and he taught himself how to play the organ. He has such a beautiful voice and can sing almost anything. He is very talented musically. He would play with other Hawaiian friends and it was too incredible to describe. The melodies, the harmonies, the blending of voices and instruments. I always thought my Dad could have been a professional.

My Dad gives the best hugs. He wraps his arms around you as far as they will go and he squeezes. Not too hard, not too soft, but just right. Hugs that are tight enough to make you feel warm and safe and loved. I can never get enough of those. But isn't that the point in being a champion hug giver?

I miss my Dad. I wish he lived closer, or we lived closer, or whatever. I had dreams of him teaching my kids how to play guitar and speak Hawaiian. I would love for my kids to be able to spend years and years and years with my Dad. He has always been my ideal and my dream for the father of my kids and I am lucky enough to have that.

Thanks Dad for loving me. Thanks, Dad, for always being a phone call away. Thanks Dad for being My Dad. I love you!