Day #11, 018: I spent Father’s Day remembering one of the finest people I’ve ever known: my dad.

Before he passed away five and a half years ago, my dad was one of my very best friends.  I was head-over-heels for him from the very start.

In my preschool/kindergarden days, my favorite movie was Disney’s “Robin Hood.”  I imagined myself as Maid Marion, I always thought I’d marry a fox like Robin Hood (no, an actual fox… I was confused back then…), and I loved Little John the Bear… mostly because his big, brown bear-paw-hands looked exactly like my dad’s.

Sometimes on the weekends, he would take us to the mailroom where he worked.  I remember thinking how glamorous it all was… the file cabinets, the break room… I couldn’t imagine anything more glamorous than working in an office.  Daddy would let us into the mailroom and immediately begin construction on a bubble wrap bed underneath his desk.  While my sister and I would play with highlighters and packaging tape, Daddy would nap under his desk in his packing material nest.  Even at a young age, I recognized the supreme awesomeness of a bubble wrap bed at work.

Daddy loved sitting by the docks of San Pedro, California listening to the radio.  While we sat in his truck watching the seagulls and fishing boats, he would teach my sister and me the harmony parts to old songs from the 70’s.  He would always sing bass.  To this day, whenever we hear the Doobie Brothers’ song “Black Water,” my sister and I will drop everything to belt out the chorus.

When Mr. M and I would have little tiffs through high school and college, my dad was the first person I would turn to, despite the fact that he always, always took Mr. M’s side.  “You’re just like your mother was!” He’d laugh… and somehow I’d end up laughing, too.  I used to ask my dad if Mr. M was like the son he never had… someone to BBQ with and do other ‘manly’ activities.  He used to laugh and tell me he could BBQ with me, too!  He would always advise me (jokingly, I think?) to just ‘shack up’… he said getting married was way more trouble than it was worth.  That may have been the one piece of advice I didn’t follow.  I know he would’ve been really happy to learn that Mr. M and I ended up getting married… and I don’t think Daddy would’ve been surprised to learn that Mr. M is still the love of my life, almost 15 years later.

Daddy raised my sister and me to be die-hard Lakers fans… and oft-disappointed Rams supporters.

He claimed that in his youth he was a champion double-dutch jump-roper.  I haven’t confirmed this yet with my aunts, but for a larger man, he was amazingly light on his feet.

He frequently told us both that the other daughter was his favorite… but that he’d reconsider if we brought him a cup of coffee from the kitchen.  Daddy was blessed with considerable charm and influence that he single-mindedly channeled into getting people to bring him coffee.  He had all my aunts, my grandparents, and half the women with whom he worked under his spell.  I’m not sure the man ever got his own cup of coffee throughout the whole of the 90’s.  “Girls?  Can you bring me my coffee, pretty please?  Whoever brings it will be my faaaavorite….”

He had no idea where I applied to college my senior year (his parenting style was lax, to say the least), but when I got accepted and decided to go to school across country, he cashed in his 401k to put me through college and to buy me tickets to come home for Christmas.  I never thought I’d be able to repay him for that generosity, but I know he was so proud when I was the first person in our family to graduate college.  Hopefully that helped a little.

After my dad injured his leg and acquired a bit of a limp, Mr. M and I jokingly bought Daddy a flashy cane from New Orleans topped with a golden alligator head.  Not only could he pull it off, he promptly named it “Allie” and took that pimp cane with him everywhere we went.  “Allie” became his trusty sidekick… and proudly held court at the seat we saved in honor of my dad at our wedding.

I miss my dad every day.

Right after my dad died, I remember being so incredibly sad that I would never again be able to benefit from his influence in my life.  No more jokes, no more hugs, no one to comfort me when I was scared or unsure of myself… just… silence.  The only way for me to move forward in life was to do so thinking of how he would have wanted me to live.

And then I realized he would always have a huge influence in my life.  He’ll always be here.  Every day that I spend, I spend trying to make him proud of the person I’ve become.  He made me acutely aware of how important it is to recognize and celebrate the people I love… and to appreciate every day that I get to spend enjoying life.

So happy (belated!) Father’s Day!  I don’t know if it’s possible to do such a thing, but if it is… I’m dedicating this blog to my pops.  Like most other things in life, I think he’d get a kick out of it. :D

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