Happy Sunday, all!
This Sunday isn’t just any Sunday, though. This Sunday is a day known hereabouts as Father’s Day. Or, Dad Day, if you’re like me and love alliteration.
Dad Day sometimes gets a bad rap as a “Hallmark Holiday”; just an excuse for big businesses to sell cards and ties and tools. Did you know it was actually started by a woman that legitimately wanted to celebrate her father?
As things do, it turned into a buy stuff occasion (just like another holiday I could name that is supposed to celebrate the birth of a certain baby…), but ignoring it is just unfair to dads. I mean, we get flowers and the like for moms, and we make a big deal about celebrating moms, but dads often get ignored.
My dad is a pretty awesome guy, y’all.
Yes, we have our disagreements. Yes, he sometimes does stuff and says stuff that pisses me off. But I’m his kid, that’s his job. At the end of the day, though, I know he loves me.
My dad has always had high aspirations for me. We haven’t always gotten along with what I should be doing, but he’s always supported me, and given me sound advice. He understands that even though I’m his baby I’m also a grown woman that needs to make mistakes for herself. I think that’s the thing I appreciate most about my dad. He’ll even hold off with the “I told you so”s (occasionally).
So here’s to dad. Not just my dad, but all men who fit the bill of “dad”. The man/men in our lives who are role models. Who will take you to the hospital when you hurt yourself, and make you chocolate pudding to make you feel better afterwards. To the person in your life that supports you, reads to you, plays board games with you. To the person who holds you up so you can see the parade, or teaches you to swim. Who cries for joy and pride when you succeed, and hold your hand when you fail. Here’s to the guy whose beard is full of greys because of you, and whose heart is full to bursting, too.
And to my dad, thanks. Thanks for being my superhero, my role model, and my friend. Thanks for loving me so much it hurts, and believing in me. I hope you know I’ll always do the best I can, and believe when I say you raised me well enough to know myself. Even when we disagree, know that it’s not just my voice you’re hearing coming out of my mouth: it’s yours, too.