Happy Father's Day

Last night my sis, bro, and I took my dad out to dinner for Father's Day. It's hilarious when we get together because it's almost as if each of us could be our own one-man/woman-show. Put 4 at a table together and it becomes chaotic humor. Of course Dadda brought the classic video camera with it's permanently affixed Bush/Cheney sticker. We captured some classic coversation, but I think our waitress was surprised to come to our table and see that my dad had turned on the camera's light to make up for dim restaurant lighting!

My siblings and I were reflecting on what life lessons our dad has taught us. It's interesting to see what memories really stick out after all these years. I always remember my dad being so kind and gracious to waiters/waitresses, hotel staff when we were on vacation, grocery baggers and the like. He always taught us to be aware of others and to not make unnecessary work for others.

I learned from my dad to never be afraid of people different from me. Many Sundays growing up I recall my dad racing a sweet older woman with cerebral palsy in her wheelchair around the gym after church. She would laugh hysterically as he'd pop wheelies and treat her like a queen. He held her brittle, contorted hands with quiet compassion at the rest home on many occasions before she finally passed away.

We took food to homeless people in downtown Los Angeles at Christmas and that was life-changing. From my father I learned to be grateful and to serve others.

Even when going through the awkward (pear-shaped) pre-teen phase, I always knew my dad felt I was beautiful. I knew that whatever curve balls the outside world would throw my way, home would be a soft place to land and my dad would always see my heart.

I'm so happy that my dad has been such an active part of my life. There are hundreds of memories I have of the way he has loved and cared for me through special Saturday outings, father/daughter dates, blowing lights out before bed (accompanied with a somersault finale), yelling at the jr. high teacher who mistreated me, doing the cheerleader "gooo team" jump at my football games, fun park swingset fun (he'd swing us all at different intervals and run across so we could try to kick him!), countless picture-taking opps, his pretending to be secret service at the airport as I would walk to my gate, typing and editing my papers for school, special letters while I was at college, and, most of all, believing in me. If I need a boost or someone to fill my ego-balloon, he's my guy; and I'm so thankful to know he's always there.

Watch for later poetry posting. I forgot to mention that he's the best writer I know and one of the smartest guys ever! Loooove you!