I didn't do anything for my dad this year. Well, I just didn't buy him anything. I did help Mom make french toast this morning. We were out of town half the week and then I just kept forgetting about doing anything. Does this make me a horrible daughter? Probably. His birthday is in 13 days so perhaps I'll buy him an extra good b-day present instead. If Keith had money I'd get him to chip in.
This is my tribute to my dad:
I'm not even sure if I have the words or ability to put my dad into sentences. He is strong, simple, kind and hard to anger. He is determined to not lose his life like his father did. He runs virtually everyday and I know could outrun my entire family combined. He takes care of all the animals I have accumulated over the years and only rarely complains about it. He tirelessly works to keep the pool blue like my mom wants it. He has changed the oil in every car I've driven every time it has needed it. I have never paid for an oil change. He built a 4-car garage all by himself minus the pouring of the cement slab. He used some thing called a "water level" that I'm still not sure how it works. He helped me with my math homework (because he was better at math than Mom - she was better at English) until I got to Calculus and I started helping myself. He served in the United States Air Force for 15 years and instilled a sense of pride in our nation as well as the service men and women across the country and world. He helped me build a model tennis court out of nails and string that won me 1st place in a math fair. I think he really did more work than I did. He tried to teach me how to drive a stick shift. I gave up, but still want to learn. He worked on a flagpole at Yankee Stadium and stole some Bazooka gum for Keith and me from the dugout. He keeps me updated on my favorite baseball team even when I have other things going on and I'm not keeping up with it myself. He shares my love for Star Wars, House, CSI, The Deadliest Catch and other shows/movies that my mom would never ever like. He gets along famously with my husband and loves him like his own. Brian, in return, respects my father and trusts his knowledge and wisdom. My dad doesn't have much of a family. He only speaks to one brother on a semi-regular basis. He has embraced my mom's family as his own and is loved by every single one of them. He has taken our family on more vacations than I can count. He generally drives the entire way. He has gotten us back and forth to New York a number of times as well as Disney World, Carlsbad Caverns, & Corpus Christi. He is the reason we are in Abilene and thus the reason I went to college here, met Brian here, and will get married here. He built a bed for me when I was in high school and I can't even remember why. I look around and everything in this house has been touched by his hands. Every tile, every piece of hardwood floor, the counter tops, the sinks and toilets, every piece of molding and every wall. He works long hours every night to support everyone else. We hear stories of the weirdos and freaks he has to put up with at work, but he does it anyway. He took me to see the new Indiana Jones movie and we had a good time even tho we rarely spend quality time like that together. He likes coffee, Jack Daniels, and red wine (or so I've heard from Mom). He'll eat eggs and onions even tho the rest of us won't (except Keith and his new found love for scrambled eggs). I remember calling him the human trashcan when I was younger because he would eat anything Keith and I didn't finish at dinner. This is still true. He will always take that last bite I just cannot make myself eat. He always saves the potato skins I don't eat. He will microwave anything we consider inedible until it is edible for him. His lunchbox for work has become our mailbox. Mom and I don't really know what to do when he's off and we need to find a real mailbox. He has cleaned up my vomit and taken care of me when I am sick. He drove me to school and picked me up almost everyday until I could drive myself. He drove used (and sometimes pretty gross) cars/trucks until very recently. He rarely throws anything away and usually finds some use for it down the line (much to Mom's chagrin!). I could probably go on and on and on. My dad is my dad which automatically makes him better than anyone else's dad. He is always there ready to fix whatever needs to be fixed or eat whatever needs to be eaten. I may suck because I didn't even get him a card this year, but I have a feeling he'll read this eventually and forgive me (although I'm sure he was never upset to begin with). I love you, Dad!
Happy Father's Day.
S.
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