I think we've already established that I wasn't the nicest kid. I was actually pretty sassy... and mean-spirited. And I liked to talk back. And whine and cry, especially when I didn't get my way. One thing I've always been, though... a Daddy's girl.
I can remember when I was a little bitty thing laying on my Dad's back in the floor. My Dad has always had the best laugh, and I remember before he started working at Farm Bureau he always had a beard and mustache, and loved to kiss us on the cheek and tickle us with his beard. He was the kind of Dad who sometimes didn't say much, but his actions said much more...
Working full-time and building a house all by himself, even with a broke foot, so we could have a good place to live. Working overtime so I could have things that I wanted, even though I probably didn't need them. Taking me school clothes shopping in the mall when I was in the 7th grade, and thinking I looked beautiful in everything that I wore. Making sure that I got to stand in line at Rupp Arena to get Garth Brooks tickets, even when Mom had just had Kami. Pulling up a stool next to his desk as he reconciled accounts, giving me a piece of paper to draw on, answering to his stage name Thomas Matthew, and occasionally letting me punch in numbers on the big calculator. Taking time out to help me in 8th grade Algebra... he knew the answers, but we never could figure out how to get to them. Being a class chaperone in the 4th grade and being pretty cool at it, letting the kids he was chaperoning have a sock fight and singing Guns n Roses in the Louisville Children's Museum. Listening to those same kids and being interested in their lives.. always paying attention to my friends and making them feel important. Recognizing that not everyone had someone at home to love them. Dropping me off to school and not complaining when I always seemed to "miss" the bus in the evenings because I didn't like riding it. Letting me ride my bike down the hill at the dam at Buckhorn, and then over-apologizing when I lost control and got hurt. Picking me up from cheerleading practice while Mom was at another game, and getting us dressed to meet her at the state tournament (one of my favorite stories ever. Holly was 2 and he put one of my turtlenecks on her. He tried...) Campfires and wiffle ball and fishing (although I wasn't allowed to fish much.. I was always too loud). Going along with the flow on family vacation and being willing just to be the driver to so many events. Not getting mad when we broke his office door in half at a going away party. Riding all of the roller coasters at Kings Island over and over again, even though he knew he'd get sick. Listening to me rant and rave, and teaching me to try to be quiet, that anger doesn't do anything but eat away at your own heart.
Praying for Caleb when he was sick this winter and when his knee was hurt. Praying for me during a catheter check-off in nursing school that I just knew I was going to fail. Praying for others, that he doesn't even know. Taking me along as a kid as he visited neighbors and invited them to church. Giving kids jobs mowing grass and tending vegetables not just because he needed the help but because they did, too.
My Dad has taught me what it means to truly love, to love beyond measure. He's also shown me that we don't have to be perfect. When I was little, he had a temper much like mine, and I probably tried that temper more than Caleb tries mine. There's been plenty of times when I've stomped up those stairs, ponytail flying, and slammed a door... but always when I tiptoed back downstairs, he was there to forgive me. Oh, he yelled at me. And had high expectations for me. But he loved me, with a strong and courageous love. More importantly, he loves my Mom and he loves God.
Every girl deserves being treated like a Princess, and I know I took that overboard sometimes, but thank you, Daddy. Happy Father's Day!
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