I know, I know…it’s not Father’s Day. But Sunday was, and I didn’t get a chance to blog about my awesome dad—I was too busy having dinner with him and thanking him for helping me track down tires for my car!
That’s my dad in a nutshell. He does so much for me, and most that come to mind immediately are automobile-related. Oil change? Call dad. Engine running hot? Call dad. Horrible wreck on the side of the road involving an overturned Sunfire and a disfigured magnolia tree? Uh…call mom, and then have her call dad.
My dad is also the one with all the answers. This bothered me when I was younger, because he thought he knew everything, and only now do I realize that he kinda sorta does. It’s hard to admit because I am just like my father: hardheaded, stubborn, and yes, smart. I call my dad for the final word on most everything, because I just need him to tell me it will be alright. He’s talked me down in a lot of situations, and he’s gotten me out of many scrapes.
Other things my dad has given me? My green eyes (his are more brown), a great head of hair, a (sometimes) short temper and a strong work ethic. He’s worked very hard to build a good life for himself, his wife, and his two girls. After the steel mill in our town (which supported many, many families in our community) shut down, my dad was forced to find something new after almost 25 years in the same job. But he did it.
My grandfather, my dad’s dad, passed away unexpectedly when he was only 71. My dad was 46. I remember seeing him break down in a way that I didn’t think dads were capable of; I thought dads were too strong for that. Dad always told me that he never got enough time with his father; 46 years just wasn’t enough.
My dad will be 60 this year. I find myself striving for his approval more and more these days. I want him to like me. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to see me, and know that he was a positive influence and that he’s been the best father I could ask for.
I love you, Dad.