I had a little epiphany the other day. I haven’t always given my father enough credit. I can remember being a stereotypically difficult teenager, and having some blowouts with Dad over issues long forgotten or forgiven between us. I can remember feeling (as teenaged minds errantly do) at times indignant and like he couldn’t possibly understand me or love me that much.
Dad worked a lot while my sisters and I were growing up. He is a driven, type-A personality who doesn’t do things by halves. A logical, reasoning mind with conservative principles and values, a head for business, not prone to excessive displays of emotion in the way of Midwestern men (this is not a criticism, Dad if you are reading!), juxtaposed with a girly, artistic, and sometimes brooding poet for a daughter. I suspect we drove each other a bit mad in those years.
Looking back on our differences through the years, I think I’ve at times overlooked the most evident truth of all. All those times I didn’t think he understood what I needed from him… I was so wrong.
He saw to my education.
I never lacked for food, shelter, clothing, and even the extras.
He paid for driving lessons.
He taught me how to change a tire and check my oil.
He took us on fun road trips / family vacations
In his own way, he shared his heritage with many weekends at our grandparents’ farm
He engrained me with a sense of civic duty and the importance of voting
He taught me a deep respect for our military and law enforcement
He encouraged my independence
He listened to even the silliest bands in an effort to understand his daughter and speak her language
He still seeks my opinions in matters of certain music!
Although these are but a small sampling of the things I could list… most importantly, he has given me the tools and the space to pursue my own path, and to be who I am, for better or worse.
Thank you, Dad.
I love you, too. Happy Father’s Day
