Daddy's Girl

Today is Daddy's day...my Daddy.

It's not his birthday nor is there any particular reason to choose this day. I just am way overdue to single out my Daddy. I think this is my longest post yet, but he deserves a mongo post...even though it is LOOOONNNNGGGG.

Don't give up halfway through, there's some good stuff chucked all in there. (If that sentence doesn't show off my southern roots, I don't know what will.)

~

What I love about my Daddy:

He loves me...a lot. How can a girl not feel special when she knows her daddy loves the dickens out of her? I have always been a daddy's girl. (Here's where I share something I'll probably regret...so please, if you must mock, do it quickly and lovingly.) I used to have nightmares that mom and dad were having another baby and it was a (shock, gasp!, alarm) girl! I did decide to share when B was born, though. :)

He adores...loves...treasures...lives for...his grandkids. I honestly can't think of a word that properly encapsulates all he feels for those 3 little people. I love remembering the day we brought B home from the hospital. Daddy sat in the rocking chair cuddling her just staring at her sleeping face. He said: "I've waited 25 years for this day." Daddy is the reason we love Winnie the Pooh around here so much. We didn't know B was going to be a girl, and Daddy really wanted to get something for the baby, so he bought a little Winnie the Pooh doll. Once B was born, he went out and bought a Piglet to match...because Piglet is pink. B, to this day, sleeps with Pooh and Piglet in her bed everynight. And once we found out K was a girl, he immediately bought another Piglet. Those girls love their dolls from their Poppa. Daddy was at the house when B stood up on her own for the first time. She was crawling over his legs, decided to push up, then let go, and wah lah! I still think Daddy thinks she never would have done it if it had not been for him.;) And I don't even know what to say about little man and his Poppa. The sun rises and sets in that kid's Pull-Ups as far as Daddy is concerned. I am so grateful and humbled to have been a part in bringing these 3 joys into his life.

He loves my mom...a lot. I can never remember a time when Daddy didn't just flat out adore Mom. He has always depended on her, respected her, and enjoyed her. Sometimes they drive each other crazy, but to me, that's just part of true love.

What I admire about my Daddy:

Daddy has spent over 40 years as a Methodist minister. I loved being a "preacher's kid" growing up. I loved all the churches...even the moves. I loved meeting new people and getting to know new families and traditions. I loved listening to Daddy write his sermon as he sat at the kitchen table with his Bible, his legal pad, and his black & silver ball-point pen. I loved going to the church getting things ready for Sundays and Wednesday nights. I loved his study and the rows upon rows of books. I loved standing next to him after church shaking hands. I loved living next door to the churches and living in the parsonages. We never really knew what we were going to have for furniture or appliances, but mom and dad always made it into an adventure. I even got used to never having neighbors since he always had country churches. We usually lived next to a cemetery and when we would move in, mom and dad would take us over to "meet the neighbors". :) Daddy was always helping, serving, or counselling. As a little girl, I remember thinking that only Santa Claus came close to my daddy. As an adult, I know that Daddy is in a league all his own.

Daddy is never ashamed to cry. I have always known that true strength is not proven by a lack of tears, but rather is evident in how you adapt to situations, react to circumstances, and grow from experiences. I know that if there is ever a touching moment in a movie, or TV show, or if you write him a sweet card, or if he is just having a "I'm a proud Daddy or proud Poppa" moment...he's going to have tears. When I was a senior in high school, my Granny (dad's mom) died unexpectedly. I will never forget watching Daddy sit at the kitchen table holding his head in his hands with tears streaming. I knew then that it was okay to openly grieve. I knew that he was not hiding his grief from us. We were sharing it together. That moment gave me so much. I carry it with me everyday, and although it is a sad memory...it has taught me how to process sadness and grief, and that in itself brings happiness and peace.

Daddy grew up helping on his family's chicken farm. He taught me great work ethics. He taught me about respecting your parents. He made me appreciate not having to get up before dawn and go into a stinky ol' chicken barn. :) I love his stories and I am so grateful he can now share them with my children. I hope they learn the same positive traits from them that I did.

Daddy was my rock when I had leukemia. I do not say that lightly. I mean it quite literally. I leaned on his strength and never doubted that he COULD NOT be moved. He was with me through every single prick, prod, test, procedure, pain, and relief. I always knew how worried he was about me ( he still worries about me ), but he never made me feel scared. I have never felt safer than when I was with my Daddy. He would let me hold and squeeze his hand...and I mean HARD...every single time I had a treatment. He befriended all the doctors and nurses and in turn made our visits there immeasurably more pleasant. He was always asking questions to make sure he add ALL the info. I never doubted that he knew exactly what was going on and what was best for me at all times. After certain treatments which were the worst (spinal taps and bone marrow extractions, especially when they did them both in the same day), we always stopped by the hospital gift shop. I have the most amazing collection of stuffed animals! That is also where I learned a love for "Archie" comics. We would buy a new one every time we were out. He has BOXES of those things by now. Once I started a certain chemo drug, I couldn't have any sodium. But I loved McDonald's fries. So what did Daddy do? He went into the store, explained the situation, and wouldn't you know it...they cleaned out there entire fry tray, made a new batch, gave me my fries, and only then would they salt the rest. It gets better...at that particular McDonald's, we became special customers. When they would see us coming, they would empty out their fry vat, clean it, and make all new fries (completely unsalted) just so I could have a small fry. My daddy's a fry hero.

What I enjoy about my Daddy:

He gave me my love of college football...specifically and especially Alabama Crimson Tide football. Roll Tide! Over the years, he has patiently and not so patiently explained the game. I can't remember there ever not being Sports Almanacs or Sports Illustrated or stat lists lying around the house. Between him, my brother, my grandparents, and my mom...I didn't stand a chance. You either loved football, or you just found something to entertain yourself with for 6 months out of the year. From the time I could talk, I could tell you the coach, the QB, and at least 2 other players that season. Steve learned quickly. :) Daddy has always had a "shrine". He has a special place in the house for his Bama stuff. I love it. I love the tradition. I love the memories of Homecoming on the Quad, the parade, the bonfire. I loved Daddy and Mom showing us different buildings on campus and telling us what they did there when they were in college. I love the memory of the game Daddy and I went to ( just the two of us ) when I was pregnant with B.

I also love how mom and daddy answer the phone on game days with a "Roll Tide!" And it never fails to make me laugh that if the phone rings during a game, one or both will say: "Who the heck would call during a game?!"

He taught me to play games. And to play to win!

Enough said. :)

He loves Lego's. And he goes beyond just the instruction booklet. He used to build the most amazing structures. He would have made a terrific engineer, but I know the career he chose was infinitely better.

He introduced me to old gospel quartets.

I still love them. A lot.

He's a pack rat. He still won't let go of my 2nd grade spelling notebooks. When we would move...even without major furniture or appliances, we still had to rent the biggest U-Haul available. I am not exaggerating. They have downsized in the past couple of years, but they did just have a barn built to house some boxes. We tease him, but I really love that these things are so precious to him. He can seem gruff sometimes, but he's a big teddy bear.

What I want to tell my Daddy:

I love you.
I appreciate everything you taught me. I cherish our memories as a family. I am humbled to have been so incredibly blessed to be your daughter...to be your namesake. I know you get frustrated and discouraged because your health has limited what you want to do, but as long as you are you...that is enough for all of us. Don't keep wishing you could do more, just be happy because we can all be together. You have always been strong. Your physical strength doesn't matter at all compared to the strength that is in you.

I am thankful for my Daddy.