That's Why I Love my Dad

I just wrote a Fathers' Day card to my dad. Why is it that the people you love the most are the hardest to tell? I can always think of a nice, polite or meaningful thing to say in a greeting card. . . apparently except where my dad is concerned. It's like I think about how much I love him and my words get lost; I can't do plain old "nice" or "polite" because it just doesn't express enough.

I am, unabashedly and unapologetically, a "Daddy's girl." I always have been. Until I got married, he was the most important person in my universe, and even now he still ranks a close second. *grin* It was always his approval I strove for and his approval which meant more to me than anyone else's.

When I was nine, I remember, I had been asked to play the piano during our church's offertory. I practiced for weeks until I knew the song perfectly. I was so proud of myself that I didn't take the songbook to the piano with me; I was determined to play from memory. About a minute into it, I completely forgot the whole thing. I tried to start over, but I couldn't remember a single note. The room was dead silent; I couldn't see the congregation because the front of the piano blocked them from my view, but I could imagine them all sitting there, just waiting for me to get on with that horrible song. I finally fled from the stage, embarrassed, and sought refuge in the ladies' restroom where I sobbed my little nine-year-old heart out. When I finally emerged, determined to go back to my seat and deal with the whole thing like a grown up, my dad was waiting for me in the hallway. No doubt he'd been there ever since he saw me run away and had been listening to me cry my nine-year-old tears all that time. He hugged me and told me it was okay, and I broke down again. But somehow, the fact that my dad wasn't ashamed of me made the rest of the people in the congregation not matter so much.

When I was 12 or 13 I heard someone preach about Abraham being willing to sacrifice Isaac and how we needed to be willing to give those we love most to God, like Abraham was. No doubt I took the teacher's meaning a little too much to heart, but nevertheless I struggled for days with his message. I wanted to trust God like Abraham had but I was truly afraid that if I gave my dad to God, God might take him away from me just to test me. Heavy thoughts for such a little girl, I know. :) It was one of the most agonizing prayers I ever prayed, the night I told God amidst many tears that He could have my dad and I would try to trust Him.

Needless to say, God has let me "keep" my dad for all of these years and my admiration and love for him has only grown as I have grown. He and my mom were only 18 when they married, had no college educations and hardly any marketable skills. Dad worked many odd jobs in those early years to provide for us, from selling shoes to working on cars. We lived in small apartments, wore hand-me-downs and ate lots of boxed macaroni and cheese, but I never felt like we were poor. Dad loved (and still loves!) my mom with all his heart and his faith in God has never wavered. So on Fathers' Day, I wish I could tell him more than what I was able to write in that card. I wish I could let him know just how grateful I am to have had him for a dad and how much I admire him. How I want my sons to turn out just like him and how his approval still means more to me than anyone else's. And how much I miss him now that I'm so far away from home.