Just Remember, Your Daddy Loves You

Family is important.

Take care of what you have, even if it’s not a lot.

If you say you are going to do something, do it.

If you are wrong, admit it.

Just do you, boo.

And just remember, “your daddy loves you.”

Those are just a few things that my dad has taught me.

I am a daddy’s girl. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl. My first ever memory is fishing with my dad when I was three years old. So, this would have been about 1991. I can remember standing on a big rock in the middle of an easy flowing river. I even remember what I was wearing. It must have been a little cold that day because I was wearing a fluffy pink coat with pastel green pockets and a yellow hood. My dad cast the line for me and handed me the fishing rod. Then he dashed back to his own fishing pole for a minute, while I waited, silent and still and serious, for a fish to bite. I remember the line floating down the river in a lazy, slacked way. I never took my eyes off that line. I don't remember actually catching a fish that day, maybe I didn't, but I remember the gentle floating of the fishing line down the river. My dad taught me how to fish, but he also taught me patience. He would have been only twenty-eight years old then. Seven years younger than me now. It’s strange how when you look back on your childhood, you realize that you were watching your parents grow up, as they were watching you grow up.

My dad has always loved dirt bikes, and he rode a lot when I was younger. My parents bought me a yellow four-wheeler with a blue seat, and I went to the track with my dad. While he rode around on the track, I watched in wonder and fascination. I had never seen anything go that fast. I wanted to go that fast too. I hopped on my four-wheeler and went as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast. But I kept riding my four wheeler, I kept dreaming of going faster. My dad taught me how to be daring and fearless, and always strive to be faster, better. He taught me how to dream.

My dad loves to swim. I love to swim. When I was little, everyone called me ‘little fish.’ My dad taught me how to swim, though I can’t remember it. I was too young. I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t swim. I do remember going to the lake. My dad would have me step into his hands and then he would throw me upward and I would fly up in the air and fall back into the water. Splash! I would scream “again, again, again!” and my dad would do that for hours, or until I got tired of it, anyway. My dad taught me how to swim and he helped me fly.

At one point in my life, I was having horrible panic attacks. I hyperventilated and passed out in the middle of class once in high school. Everyone laughed at me, and I was mortified. I didn't want to go back to school because I was afraid that I would have a panic attack, pass out and be laughed at… again. I wasn’t popular, I was the weird kid. I always had my nose in a book, I was shy to the point of awkwardness, and when anyone did try to talk to me, I freaked out and my words would come out all jumbled and incoherent. I thought about how awkward I was a lot. I wanted to fit in so badly, but I just couldn’t do it. I got into the habit of asking before I did anything. “Can I eat a sandwich? Can I watch TV? Can I put my hair up or do you think it will look stupid? Should I say this? Should I do that?” I don’t know why I did that. Maybe I just wanted a second opinion to make sure what I was doing wasn’t weird or something. Who knows. But Dad always told me, “Just do you, boo. Everyone else is just worried about themselves, they aren’t paying any attention to you anyway." He put it into perspective. Let your weirdness shine.

Dad also taught me about cars. He has always been the one to fix my cars when they needed it. I’m not a mechanic by any means, but I have hung around my dad enough while he was working on cars to be a damn good diagnostician of car problems. Tell me what’s going on, let me listen and look and more often than not I can tell you what’s wrong. Dad says I’m better than him at figuring out a car’s problem now. I can pinpoint it, but he still does the fixing. I just hand him tools, and I always learn a little more about him every time. I get to hear some pretty good stories about him in his younger days.

My dad is a fantastic storyteller. He gives detail and hits the humorous notes perfectly. He can have you doubled over, and laughing until you pee your pants (seriously, I've seen it happen) over something that happened decades ago. I love that about him. Put him in a room full of people and he'll tell his stories. Then everyone is laughing and instantly in a good mood. Whenever my dad walks into a room, any doom or gloom that had been lingering… just disappears. Dad taught me the importance of humor and storytelling. And to remember to smile and laugh daily.

When I was fifteen, my dad was diagnosed with silicosis, a lung disease. That was really scary. He went to the doctor for chest pain that he had been having for a while. You know how hard it is to get a man to go to the doctor. Well, in my experience it is anyway. When he finally decided to have it checked out, the doctor told him that he had lung cancer and he had nine months to live. Talk about knocking all of us onto our asses. That doctor was wrong, thank goodness. He went to another doctor and found out that it was silicosis, which is also pretty bad, but they gave him a five year prognosis that time. I am thirty-five now, and my dad is still with us. I am so grateful for that. My son is sixteen and my dad is a huge part of my son’s life. My dad and my son have an amazing relationship. My son’s father put my son and I through a lot until I worked up the nerve to leave him when my son was two, and my dad has been a dad to my son since then. Now he is teaching my son everything that he taught me.

My dad taught me perseverance, and how to keep your head held high through the hard stuff.

Tomorrow is Father’s Day, and we are having a dinner to celebrate my dad. Attending will be- my dad (obviously, he's the celebrant), my son, my nephew, my mom, Nana, Papaw, and myself. My little brother has to work on Father’s Day, which is a total bummer. We are having burgers, hot dogs with homemade coleslaw (one of my mom's specialties), corn on the cob, banana pudding, and fresh watermelon and cantaloupe.

We’ll all sit around listening to some of dad’s storytelling, and we’ll laugh together. Dad will do his thing, where he points at me and my brother and says, “Just remember…,” then waits for us to say, “your daddy loves you.” We always roll our eyes at him, and then laugh. I was taught the importance of family, and I learned it… and I love it. Thanks Dad.

I’m thinking of giving this to Dad tomorrow. I think he’ll like it.

HEY DAD!