In Appreciation of My Dad

So, I'll be honest. The Bonus-Booster involving the "Men" community brought me here as a contributor (though I am excited to read some of the stories posted here written by others, especially men). As I considered what I could possibly write about, I decided that, since June is the month of Father's Day (in the United States at least), I would focus this article on my dad. He is one of the best portraits of a man I have in my life.

I love my dad. He's awesome, plain and simple. So, here area a few lessons he has exemplified for me over my life.

1. Enjoy the life you have.

This lesson obviously has caveats. For example, my dad has had to handle difficult situations in his life. He changed jobs after years at one company because of unfair working conditions and expectations when I was just ageing-out of being a toddler.

Many years before this (and long before I was even born), he had to make the decision to divorce his first wife when he realized he could not save that marriage.

There were some aspects of his life he has been able to change for the better, for more enjoyment. If that is in your grasp, and won't harm you or others, go for it.

But there are some things in life that will not or are not likely to change. For example, my dad has three daughters.

My dad is very interested in our family history and is proud of the fact that he knows where our Aarons originated. According to him, we have Scottish heritage and weren't Aarons at all in the beginning. We were the McArns, then the Arns, then the Arons. Later, somehow another 'a' was added and here we are: bearing the surname Aaron (and the ??honor?? of almost always being first when called or listed in alphabetical order).

He even has the Aaron coat of arms.

The only thing: my dad's line of the Aaron name will probably end with him. My dad has three daughters. No sons.

Of course, my dad has a brother who has sons to carry on the Aaron name. And maybe this kind of 'carrying on the family name' is not as important to people anymore (actually, I would love to know how you feel about the legacy of surnames and how men especially interact with them).

My half-sisters are already married and have taken the last names of their husbands. When I marry, I want to keep 'Aaron' as part of my name, but I also want to have my husband's surname as my own.

One day, I asked my dad if he was a little sad he never had a son. He told me that almost everything he would have done with a son, he has done with me. We have a microscope that we've looked at pond and above-ground-pool-stagnant water ever since I was in elementary school. (We still break it out every now and again.) We try to help the amphibian population of our yard survive when frogs misplace their eggs in our pool rather than laying them in the pond my dad made. We go fishing together off the pier when we go to the beach.

The last name thing wasn't and isn't a big deal to him because he loves me as I am. And that level of acceptance means a lot to me.

Before I my parents knew I was going to be a girl, my dad had boy names picked out (I was going to be a Chance if he had his way). Yet he is happy with a Hannah. There are many what-ifs he could ponder on or even long for, but he is happy with the children he has.

2. "Have some confidence!"

These are words I have heard from my dad many, many, many times. Its probably his most consistent reminder to me.

When I was younger, I spiraled into panic and anxiety extremely easily. Drop of a hat (worried about a test in high school, worried about an essay in college) then tears and 'I've failed and this will happen then this will happen then my life is over.'

I spiral marginally less now, which makes me and my family much happier. He's gotten very frustrated with me before because he sees worth in my endeavors where I struggle to do the same.

Writing, for example. My dad has been indulging my writing since I was little. We'd make storybooks together, cutting rectangles out of cereal boxes and covering them in construction paper for hardcover copies. I'd decide on the story’s plot line and draw. I left the penmanship to him.

Now, he reads my pieces, my poems and my fiction. He praises my efforts. I've accused him of being biased, but my dad is a reader and has no problem telling me so. He insists he would let me know if he didn't enjoy my works.

He joked one year about getting me confidence for Christmas. It didn't arrive as a package or in a card and I joked with him back that I didn't get the confidence he promised me. However, little by little, he has given me that promised confidence simply by being a supportive father willing to reassure and bolster me.

3. Be willing to provide lots of laughs and love.

My dad is hilarious. He has his standard line-up of dad jokes that I know the punchlines for, but he also just has a good sense of humor. It's a little on the dryer side with lots of teasing fake-outs ("Did you remember to pick up this and that?" "Oh, no, I forgot," he says as he pulls this and that out of a grocery bag with a huge smile on his face.)

But for my dad, these jokes show how close he is to me and my family. He jokes with almost everyone, but he gets a kick out of starting a joke only for one of us to finish it.

His love and silly side extend beyond my family. Or rather, they extend beyond our human family to our furry and feathered family.

A few years ago, a rooster happened upon our house and decided to use the bannister at our back porch as his roost.

My dad named him Fred

("For chicken alfredo," he claimed, laughing while I huffed at that poultry pun.)

Fred was a super docile rooster when it came to people. He'd challenge other roosters and birds to fight or flight (the latter more for the massive crows we have in our yard). But, my dad could pet him. He also took up the daily task of picking up Fred and putting him in the yard because Fred once jumped down from the bannister and hurt and scared himself so badly that he'd get on the bannister but would not be willing to take off from it.

My dad also talked to Fred, who'd cluck back.

Fred disappeared about a year ago. We're all sad that Fred isn't on our bannister anymore (we worry a hawk may have gotten him, though he was a BIG bird), my dad especially so. But we joke and laugh about Fred and love him still.

My dad, overall, is a laughing, loving father and I am so grateful he is my dad.

Conclusion

At the close of this piece, I would like to ask a couple of questions.

What are the most important qualities of your dad or other father-figures in your life? Why?

Thank you so much for taking the time to read about my dad! I can't wait to read about your dad and father-figures and the wonderful men in your life, too!