That’s me sitting on my dad’s lap right in the middle! Ah, the ’80’s. You can’t tell but I have my Rainbow Brite shirt on.
In the parking lot of the hospital where I was born, he dropped me while carrying me to the car to bring me home for the first time. I reciprocated months later by sitting on his face with a soaked diaper while he was napping. (And that was back when cloth diapers were the norm.)
In preschool he caught fireflies in a bottle for me. I serenaded him with my “movie star voice” and told him he was the love of my life.
In grade school he taught me how to knit by first teaching himself from a manual because I needed it for a Girl Scout merit badge. I rewarded him with a red scarf roughly shaped like Panama that he wore every day with his black overcoat for years.
In middle school he spent hours upon hours teaching me about magnetic-levitation trains and helping me craft a working model out of Legos and super glue. I won us both the Grand Champion Ribbon at the science fair.
In high school he searched my room, confiscated my Alanis Morissette CD, hated my boyfriend and showed up at parties to check up on me. I retaliated by hiding my contraband at friends’ houses, leaving my angsty music on max volume in his car, dating my boyfriend for two years and going to parties I had absolutely no business being at.
In the summer before college he demanded to still be a part of my life. I moved out and refused to talk to him for four months.
In college he finally accepted me as an independent adult who could take care of myself. I graciously thanked him by allowing him to take me out to lunch once a month, on his dime, and then allowing him to listen while I gave a non-stop narrative of my life for two hours.
In graduate school he was my mentor, my research adviser and the passionate teacher who inspired me to be a passionate teacher. I followed in his footsteps becoming a Professor in the same field he did, publishing a research paper with him and seeking his advice on a near daily basis.
In my wedding he was the witness to the eternal covenant I made to love and honor and my husband. Not a few people that day remarked on how much the new love of my life resembled the first love of my life.
In the moving van where he helped load the last of my boxes, he told me he’d already signed up for a conference in a few months in my new city and he would take me out to lunch, on his dime, and listen while I gave a non-stop narrative of my life for two days. I stopped sobbing.
In the home we made 1,000 miles away, he came to bless every one of my babies when they were born, even the one who died almost before she lived. I named my first son his grandpa’s middle name.
In our car, he drove halfway across the country when we made yet another large move so that I could fly with the children and save my pregnant self the stress of driving that far with toddlers. Humbled, I remembered that he and my mom had made almost the same move when we were toddlers – but with no help and a station wagon that died in a storm in Wyoming.
In my face he can see the joy that having a daughter of my own has brought into my life. In his face I can see the same, reflected.
To say I am my father’s daughter is an understatement. I have his crooked smile, his nearsightedness, his chin, his “Hilton squint”, his flair for the dramatic and even his pun-y sense of humor. (How do you make a handkerchief dance? You put a little boogie in it!) Someday I hope to have his forgiving heart, cheerful optimism, deep faith and ever willingness to help. Unlike the dark hair and affinity for the piano, these qualities cannot be inherited or even taught, they must be earned. I know this because I’ve watched him over the years as he went from a 21-year-old who fumbled a baby in a parking lot to the man who recently deep cleaned the bathroom that my three boys had firehosed to the point where I couldn’t even walk past it without gagging. Because he loves me that much.
So tomorrow I’m taking him out to lunch, on my dime, and I’m going to listen and hope that he’ll tell me the non-stop narrative of his life. I love you, Dad.
What is your favorite memory of your father?
Awe, so sweet. I’m betting he’s also a fantastic grandfather- your kids are so lucky!
I find it really impressive that you write both sentimental/serious pieces as well as you write funny pieces. Usually people tend towards one or the other…but I can’t decide for you, which means you’re running at even.
Where is this photo taken? Minnesota? It looks gorgeous there. It reminds me of the foothills in Alberta, except a little less arid perhaps.
Actually it’s at Bear Lake in northern Utah. None of us live there but we had a family reunion there – gorgeous!! The other funny thing about this pic is the girl on the far left? My youngest sister, lol!
Oh Charlotte I’m in tears. I know you know how blessed you are to have your dad — and I bet he knows just how blessed he is to have you, too 🙂 You are both so very very lucky.
Such a sweet post, you are so lucky to have such a wonderful father!
I don’t have a relationship with my father, so I honor my Uncle on Father’s day. I think my favorite memory is when he left work to come help me when I was 16 and stranded with a flat tire. Being able to count on someone regardless of the situation is an irreplaceable feeling!
This is so achingly beautiful. I’m in tears. I have no more words.
Lovely post. I feel the same way about my dad. I think we’re very similar, and we get on like a house on fire. As I’ve got older I feel we just grow closer every year, especially so since my mother died when I was 21. Losing one parent really makes you appreciate the remaining one.
I think my favourite memory is of him singing (The Wild Rover, of all things!) to me at bedtime when I was little. It’s a simple memory, but still remains with me.
And yes – where’s that photo taken? Looks beautiful!
It’s amazing how you said a lifetime of love in such few words.
I adore this, Charlotte.
And am grateful mine is HERE visiting from Pennsylvania.
RIGHT NOW.
What an amazing post and relationship you have with your dad. I am so happy for you that there is so much love in your family 🙂
xo
And those Punky Brewster tails! That last shot is great, Charlotte.
Literally bawling right now. This is SO sweet.
Oh, wow, I’m on the verge of tears and it isn’t even 8 AM yet! You’re so lucky to have such a wonderful relationship with your dad.
I absolutely. absolutely. love this.
I’m crying here and its only 8 am!
You are so very lucky and blessed that you have such a wonderful and sweet father. Your father is the love of your life, I fee; the same way about my father. Lots of memories I have with my father when I was young. Thanks for sharing your beautiful story with us. Check my new blog:http://howtoprepareforpregnancy.com/
So beautiful, Charlotte. Thank you for sharing.
My dad lives on the other side of the country and, as judgemental as he tends to be about…well, just about everything…I love him and I cherish every single moment I get to spend with him. I moved out of state with my mom when I was 9, so we’ve lived a whole plane ride away for the last 21 years. I didn’t see him much when I was growing up. And I certainly didn’t appreciate him. I am so enjoying watching him form relationships with my childrend and how he gets to witness so many of the things he missed with me.
Happy Father’s day to your dad, and your husband, too!
This is really precious Charlotte. You are so blessed to have such a great relationship with your dad. 🙂
What a beautiful tribute to a wonderful man!
My dad got to see his grandkids for a few years after they were born. I’d like to think that now he has a front row seat, watching them grow.
absolutely beautiful piece! and I love the pic at the end…ok, you’ve inspired me…gotta go write my own Fathers’ Day tribute!! 🙂
Beautiful post, made me smile. Thank you.
Oh Charlotte! That was beautiful. Now I need to I’ll wipe my tears here at work and struggle to do more than sign a generic Father’s Day card for my dad this weekend. Inspiring.
Such a beautiful tribute – I’m in tears! I didn’t get to know my dad until I was an adult (ugly divorce when I was 3), then I lost him 10 years ago. Oddly enough, my favorite memories were toward the end of his life when I’d take him to dialysis where I’d talk non-stop about my life for three hours, unless he had enough energy to talk about his own past. Our one-on-one time while he was a captive audience was very precious to both of us.
You know how to bring people to tears….I am very sensitive with father/daughter stuff! You have inspired me to write something like this for my dad! Thanks for the inspiration!
Beautiful post, Charlotte. I’m also wiping tears here at work!
I don’t have a very good relationship with my dad, but you’ve reminded me to give him a call this weekend.
It’s my boyfriend, a wonderful father to his 7 year old son, that I celebrate on Father’s Day. I hope his son grows up to realize how lucky he is to have such a loving, involved dad.
I have so many wonderful memories with my dad. Like you we haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything, like my tattoo, but he’s always been there for me whether I wanted him to be or not. I couldn’t have asked for a better father. From teaching me to swim as a kid to taking me camping to fixing my many computer issues to, just a couple days ago, consoling me on the phone about my missing kitty I cherish my dad so much. Thanks for reminding me to be thankful for this last Father’s Day that I’ll get to spend with my dad for a while!
after I stop sniffling, I can’t wait to call my daddy on Father’s Day!!
that was truly touching.
This is an absolutely beautiful post. Thanks for sharing.
Hey, you are so lucky to have such a wonderfull dad, I know I read somewhere that little girls growing up without having a good relationship with their dad grow up to girls that need to win all men in their lives and win approval
Love the post. You brought tears to my eyes and made me smile.
OK, all choked up now . . . talk amongst yourselves. So beautiful Charlotte, thank you.
My dad was never around much when I was growing up, and we don’t have much of a relationship now. I think growing up without a father has left me permanently screwed up & with a tendency to get into unhealthy (not necessarily even romantic or sexual) relationships with older men where I’m constantly looking for approval.
I am so moved Charlotte! So moved & the pics, LOVE!
My dad is gone but I have so many fond memories – so many… but the one that most lives with me – his laugh. Charlotte, his laugh was contagious – nothing like it anywhere. We were burglarized a few years ago & the idiots took all the electronic stuff but could not even leave behind the movie videos & such that had my parents on them. I long to hear that laugh again. Sorry to be a downer but it is really not – the laugh is a wonderful memory!
PS: Did you tweak your site – seems to be working much better for me today!
How sweet is this? 😉 I’m going to do the same with my parents tomorrow, swim, play games, and eat whatever my dad wants to celebrate. I am definitely my father’s daughter too – from the impatience and wanting to get ahead, the drive to succeed, my eyes (both the color and ability to barely see the E on the eye chart), and the dorky, awkward, goofy sense of humor that may not have made us popular in school, and makes us unlikely managers, but we found a way. We both like to sing when we’ve had a few too many (and can hold our liquor well), and like to find the most efficient and cheapest way to do things.
His stories from his past get more and more interesting with age (mine – working for Playboy in the 60s and 70s he had some interesting times that are not appropriate to tell a teen/young adult), and it’s always fun when a new one comes out. Thanks for making me reflect on this! 😉
That is so sweet Charlotte! Unfortunately I can’t recall many happy memories from the short period of time my dad was in my life, I am so happy for you that you have such a wonderful relationship with your father! 🙂 x
I just read this again.. because I love truly honest open hearted posts (and this more than qualified) and cried again… This makes me warm and fuzzy inside, truly. thank you.
So beautiful, Charlotte!! I always enjoy reading what you’ve written, but this is by far one of my favorite pieces. 🙂
Oh, and I think some of my favorite memories of my dad are watching him work in his shop and on things around the house. I’ve always been fascinated by his knack for fixing/making things. 🙂