Saturday, June 17, 2006

Reflections of a Father's Day


I came up with a list of the things that I remember about my Dad, growing up:

I remember "borrowing" my dad's records and eventually falling in love with his music. Except for SpyroGyra

I remember the cameras.

I remember him taking Becca and me to McDonalds when Mom was having Lee, on the coldest night of the winter. It was so cold, that we ate with our mittens on.

I remember when my dad bought me my first guitar, a blue Alvarez electric that I still have with me today, five feet away from me right now.

I remember vacation to Hawaii, and how excited he was to show us all of the places that he fell in love with. Places we subsequently fell in love with, too.

I remember my dad being one of the only dads to stay to watch my swearing in to the Navy.

I remember dad always crying when he led worship for my elementary school. Telling through the tears the story of how I, when asked what the phrase "I am not dismayed" meant, told him that it meant that "I am not made wrong."

I remember wondering why he was crying.

I remember riding our bikes to Applegates.

I remember when he taught me how to drive in the station wagon, and how he never told me to release the emergency brake.

I remember the high pop-flies. And when he got too old to keep doing them.

I remember countless camping trips to Blue Mountain.

I remember dad insisting on taping my first everything, especially my first concert

I remember letting him down and hating myself for it.

I remember wrestling on the living room floor.

I remember pretending to be asleep in the car, so that dad would carry me up to my bed.

I regretfully remember whining way too much.

I remember how many times dad told me how proud he was of me and how much he loved me.

I remember the lengths that dad would go to to make sure us kids had what we needed.

I remember when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, dad and I left the house one night to go downtown on the Metrolink. He didn't tell me where it was we were going, insisting that it was a suprise. I gladly went along, and on the way I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. So, we got off at the Busch Stadium Exit to find a bathroom. He said, "let's go use the one in the stadium." As was his plan all along, we stayed and watched the Cardinals beat whoever they were playing. The best part was afterwards, when we went to go wait outside the players' garage and ended up getting most of the team's autograph on my ball. That stands as one of the best nights of my life.

I remember telling my friends at school the next day how great my dad was.

And the one thing that I can't remember is ever feeling unloved.

Thank you, Dad for who you are and who you have always been to me. I love you and I hope your father's day is wonderful.

2 comments:

Romondo Davis said...

If you intended to make me cry, you certainly succeeded. Thank you for your kind words.

I love you.

Elisa said...

I love you too, which is good because I'm 75% "Probably Ideal" for you. But only 50% Ideal. Which is weird. Who did the math?