Dad

I don’t know what it means to be a dad, but I know what it means to have one. It’s picking you up off the ground with a skinned knee and helping you back up onto the bike. It’s helping you with math homework when you just can’t get it. It’s those stern talks when you make bad choices. It’s all the little things and more.

From camping trips to Indian Princess Guides, my childhood was full of great memories with my dad.

We didn’t always see eye to eye, but he was always there for me. I’m sure between most fathers and daughters there are trying times. We had our fair share. Dating was one of them. As I was growing up, and as most young girls, we tried out things. So, the age of make-up came along. He would jokingly call it my “war paint” and knew I was heading out with my friends when I put it on. I could tell he didn’t care too much for me growing up so fast. I was his only little girl, and he was watching me quickly grow into a young lady. My high school years weren’t the easiest for us either. It was a struggle for me and I didn’t make it easy for either of my parents. I went to a catholic school and if that wasn’t bad enough, I had gotten pregnant from a boyfriend he already didn’t approve of in my junior year. I’ll never forget his face, it wasn’t anger, it was worse. His face was that of disappointment. His heart was broken. He couldn’t even speak to me. I would’ve done anything for him to just yell at me. But this message spoke louder and clearer than any yelling ever would have. The baby was given up for adoption. And as time went on, hearts were healed while his love never wavered.

Senior year came along, my hate for school didn’t change. It was just as trying as the three years prior. I headed to summer school while all my friends walked the stage for graduation. Another disappointment I put him through. The only thing I had to look forward to was heading to basic training for the Army. But my troubles didn’t end before that, and I almost messed that up too. I hadn’t learned the first time and so I found myself pregnant again. This time was different. My future was at stake and I had no means of becoming a single mother. An unfortunate choice had to be made, and after we adjusted my contract into the Army a few months, I left in January of the next year.

I took my first plane ride to basic training. All through basic, my dad wrote me letters and added my favorite comic strips from the newspaper. Mail day was my favorite. I missed him.

I finally found something I was good at. After basic I went to A.I.T., my job training. I was at the top of my class and was part of an advanced, excelled course. I could see how proud my dad was at both of my graduations, from basic and A.I.T. It was a good feeling to make him proud, after so many disappointments. Then I was off to my first assignment in Germany. I was gone just over a year. I kept in touch with phone calls and letters. I was always so happy to see when I received mail from home. Soon the war in the Middle East arose but I found myself pregnant again with a guy I met in the signal unit, that I was engaged to. Since I wasn’t deployment ready, I made the choice to chapter out on an honorable discharge. I didn’t want to raise a child as dual military parents. So, this meant I was heading home.

My dad was the one to come pick me up. His face was the first thing I saw as I walked down the long corridor from the ramp. He had tears in his eyes. I remember like it was yesterday. He hugged me so long and hard I thought I would lose consciousness. I moved back into my old room. It was strange to be back, and this time preparing to have a baby.

While my fiancé was off at war, we prepared for a wedding that would take place on his leave. So it had to be planned and done fast. My dad helped with the finances, as most fathers would. I couldn’t even imagine what was going through his mind through all of this. I was only nineteen, I was still his baby, and now I was having my own and getting married.

The day came and all my friends and family were there. I was a little nervous, but I was happy. My dad took my arm and walked tall beside me all the way down the aisle. I never looked to see if there were any tears that day. I knew if I saw any, I would cry too.

It was a beautiful little ceremony, and other than being called the wrong name and being announced as a married couple with my last name instead of my new husband’s, it truly was one of the best days ever.

My dad has and still supports me through my life, through all the great and wonderful moments, and all the trials and tribulations. Not once did he walk away or kick me out. I couldn’t have asked for a better father. I will always love him unconditionally, like he always will for me. I love you dad.