Father's Day Memories

It's not as if I have a million memories of Father's Day itself...more like I have a bunch of memories of my dad. He's still alive, but we don't see each other so much anymore. Yet, today, while thinking about him, I was remembering some of the things he did that helped mold the me I am today.

1. He would encourage me to sing in the car. Not just sing, but "belt it out." He told me there was no difference between me and Barbra Streisand....I believed him. Do I really sing like Barbra? In my dreams...

2. When I was 7 we would toss the baseball around on the back yard. He told me I had the arm of a 9 year old boy. I believed him. In college I tried out for the softball team, certain that my 9 year old arm would get me on the team. P.S. No.

3. When I was 6 we picked up some hitchikers. I was never so scared and dad was not even nervous. He asked them where they were headed, and then told them a better route to get there. He asked them questions about their journey, and by the time they got out of the car, you would think we were all old friends. That spoke volumes to me.

4. For his 50th birthday, I made him a huge card filled with 50 Things to do on Your 50th Birthday! This thing was a labor of love. After he read it a first, then a second time in front of me, he said, "this is such a great card, and I am going to hold onto it for two years." Sorry, dad! I didnt realize you were only 48!

5. When I finally lost a tooth, in order to celebrate, dad took me to Kentucky Fried Chicken. When we were in the car, I told him I thought I could "sniff all the smell out of the bucket" before we got home. Not only did he let me, he encouraged me. I was so sick of that smell by the time we got home I never ate a piece of my own celebration chicken! But I never forgot that he encouraged me to do anything I wanted.

6. I could go on - the Sunday morning bagels and classical music, which has fostered my love of NPR. The 6am dunkin donuts date we had every Friday during my senior year in high school, which fostered my love of sweet fatty carbs. The fact that he had no problem letting us be a house of 4 kids - loud and crazy and hectic and never (in this memory) ever told me to stop being myself. That is what I think brought me to today. You know who was the first to write a comment in my blog? You do now...I love you dad, Happy Father's Day.