My Own Dad…
Father’s Day is a day of appreciate for everything fathers do. And it’s a lot. But for so many, like myself, who have lost their father…it’s also a day of reflection.
As I reflect on my father, I can find all kinds of memories to write about. Memories of love. Memories of encouragement. Memories of discipline…oh yes, lots of discipline. Memories of impatience. Memories of laughter. Memories of Chilton manuals, and socket wrenches, and oily driveway grit in my hair…
But if I blurred all my memories together into one great Viking blue-eyed, cigarette smoking, politic talking, blood and gut movie watching, sword collecting, dragonslayer, the word that pulls it all together is FEARLESS. Not just that he was fearless, but that he raised me to be that way too. He raised me to be tough, competent, and independent. He raised me to fight back. To never, never, never give up. To believe that I could handle it. I could take it. I could do it. We don’t get hurt, we get angry. Be tough. Shake it off.
And that he had my back.
Nothing was coming through him. Nothing would happen that he couldn’t handle, no future he couldn’t conquor, no tool he couldn’t fabricate, and no length he wouldn’t go to protecting and providing for his family. At the end of Armageddon, when the dust settled and nothing had survived but the cockroaches, he would be there, leading us through it. Just the Hohners and the cockroaches.
Because long before I faced The World alone, I face The World knowing that behind me was my Dad–and The World was scared of my Dad.
Even though I never really was. Much.
That kind of raising gives a girl wings.
He’s still behind you…I promise!
On this Thursday, please know that I’m extra thankful for your ability to put such lovely thoughts and feelings into words! I love you!
That was him, no doubt about it. Great job Jamie! I definitely couldn’t have said it better myself. Thank you for putting such great memories into such great words. Love you.
Girl, that was sweet! He’d be SO proud of you, lady.
Love, Stacy