"Fathers be good to your daughters....

....you are the god and the weight of her world." ~ John Mayer

During the dwindling minutes of the 35th year of celebrating my Father, I sit in a darkened room with only the light of my monitor to illuminate the keyboard and am reminded just how much I miss my Dad.

It takes a special man to be a Dad, not a Father but a true Dad. Somebody you call Daddy when you're small and Pops as you age. Terms of endearment reserved only for the good ones. I've always called mine Daddy or Dad.

I'm pretty sure he wanted a boy but alas, he was stuck with me, his only child. His very stubborn, fiercely independent, fairly volatile, ungraceful, uncoordinated, unladylike, little girl. I cannot even begin to imagine what went through his head as I grew up and made mistake after mistake after mistake with the occasional good decision thrown in. I'm sure he spent a great deal of time covering his eyes but peeking through the tiny space between his pinky and ring finger hoping that one day I would do something he approved of. And trust me when I say this: I was always seeking his approval. Every time I made a major life decision from crossing the street without permission to picking courses of study to having a baby to getting a divorce, he was always there, in the forefront of my mind, shaking his head or nodding in agreement.

My Dad, whether he thinks so or not, is a force to be reckoned with. Some may say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He is a man's man, a lady's man, a smart man. He is strong, dominant and intimidating most of the time but when the situation calls for emotions, he has no trouble showing them. I have actually lost track of the amount of times I needed him to be "the strong one" and I ended up having to be his crutch. This is something I love very much about him, he cries when he wants to and laughs louder than the sound of fireworks bouncing off high rises.

I attribute my love of cars, ability to reason and sense of adventure to my Dad. He has also passed on some things I could do without; a quick temper, lack of patience and frizzy hair. I'm often told I am just like him in both appearance and personality and I see that as a compliment. I often wonder what my Mom thinks of this but I always forget to ask.

So, to my Dad, you truly are my hero, my friend and most importantly, my Daddy. I may forget to call and write but know that you are always on my mind and in my heart.

This song can go both ways....

 

You may cry.....now.