For My Dad

On this, Father's Day 2011, a note for my Dad about memories, love and thanks:


I remember ...

Watching you play football when I was maybe 4 or 5, and you were in law school. The best part was getting to "play", too for a while with you when the games were over. The red NC State blanket that now sits on the chair in your family room will forever bring me back to those times -- it's what I used to sit on to watch you.

You teaching me to ride my bike outside the old townhouse, and telling me NOT to ride down the big hill. I didn't listen, and when I fell (hard), I remember you were there to pick up the pieces and ensured I got back on my bike.
And, while I'm still not a big fan of hearing someone say I can't do something, when I fall, I get up and try again.

Countless summer nights at Softball City and the fields in Canton. The fact that I could keep score at 8 years old surprised lots of opposing teams -- but I remember how proudly you'd answer, "She'll be fine -- she might even be able to help out your scorekeeper if you need it." No wonder I'm such a smartass. I remember those ugly ass Rebels uniforms, and developing an unnatural (for my age) dislike for those pesky (read: asshatish) Rusty Nail teams. I'll have you know, I have never stepped foot in that place as a result. True story. I had several opportunities (when I was over 21, of course) to grab pizza and beer there, and could never bring myself to go in.

Everytime I go to The Joe, still, I remember the Saturdays that I'd go to the office with you and how grown up I felt. Driving past JLA and through the "Cobo tunnel" was my favorite part of the drive downtown. And, feeding my pen and paper obsession by allowing me access to the office supply room was almost as cool as the day you let me ride the Ren Cen elevator myself. I could have ridden that thing all day just taking in the view over the river.

Our Christmas tree cutting excursions to Jackson ... and, your childish antics on the way one year resulting in me never again being able to order those boxes of little choc chip cookies from McDonald's without hearing you SINGING the words, "COW PATTY!!!"

Our ski trips with the boys. Burying lunches and going balls to the wall for the whole day, just you and me ("Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads..."). By the way, I am the age now that you were the year we followed those silly asses into the treeline that wasn't meant for skiing. Those two are still silly asses -- you and I are just old. :)

I could say "thank you" forever ...

Thank you for telling me jokes while walking down the aisle to give me away. And, thank you for escorting your little girl and her groom to their car that night, arm-in-arm, telling us how happy you were and reminding us that, no matter how tough the road gets, always remember how we felt right then and to channel that love and energy when we'd need it most.

Thank you for not only loving my kids -- but for showing them. Watching them laugh and play with you makes my heart smile.

The fact that, when asked, the ONLY thing I could ever come up with having wanted while growing up but never receiving, was a unicycle. And then, on my 40th birthday, having the waiter at one of my favorite restaurants wheel in a unicycle with a big pink bow to our table. The look on my face had to be second only to that of the guy sitting at the table behind me.

October 1st and August 18th. With all my heart I thank you for those two dates. Truly.

All those years I tested my wings (and your patience) and fell, your safety net of support and unconditional love allowed me to get up, dust myself off, and try again. And again. And, sometimes, again. So today, I honor you and say thank you, for helping me learn how to fly.


I love you, Dad,

S