June 14, 2014

Happy Father's Day to My Right Hand Man, my Daddy


He was actually held me first, when I was born.  I wish I could remember that moment.  See, Daddy has these gray-blue eyes and they're always bright and full of life and fun, but in really special moments, they get a little shiny, and a little red.  I bet they were shiny that day in April, so many years ago.  I bet he looked deep into my eyes and counted my fingers and toes, and smelled my head and kissed me.  Oh how I wish I could remember that.  But it's ok, I got to have those kinds of moments with him, again and again...kind of like in that picture of him standing beside me, when I was in my wedding gown.  I tried not to look at him for too long on my wedding day, because his eyes were shiny, and a little red, and I was afraid my mascara was going to run if I kept looking at him.

I can't explain what it's like to love a man so well.  We weren't always in the same house when I was growing up, but it never felt like we were apart in our relationship.  We traveled, we joked, we talked on the phone.  He and my sweet "other mother" gave me a little brother, and I gave him 5 grandchildren.

My Daddy loves me.  Not everybody can say that about their dads, and some of them are unsure about it, but not me.  We talk all the time, he tells me about his adventures and his down time, what he's cooked lately and the music he's enjoying.  He calls me just to share the "little things".  And he never, never forgets to say "I love you".  He's not afraid to bear hug me and tousle my crazy hair and hold my hand.  Those moments are absolutely sacred to me.  I know when he takes my hand in his, that his hand will feel very big and rough.  They're the hands of a man who has worked hard his whole life, and who has never complained for a moment.  I've memorized those hands.  I know the curve of his thumbnails and the casual, comfortable position of his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

He has no idea of his value, his absolute worth to me.  I love to hear his voice, hold his hand and look into those gray-blue eyes.  When all we can manage is a phone call, we love to chat about theology, and this funny little blog of mine, and what we plan to do when we grow up, if we decide to grow up.  He's my right hand man.  I think I'll keep him.

I love you Daddy.