This post may seem like a change of pace from my normal entries, but my decision to move away from home in support of baseball has truly been one of my biggest struggles so far. When you live this far away from family, you try to think of thoughtful gifts that you can wrap up and send home for holidays and birthdays, but nothing can really replace that genuine face time with them. In honor of today’s holiday, and in place of yet another box of golf balls, I dedicate this post to my Dad.
Two Christmas’s ago, my dad sent me a hand-written letter in a box of wrapped up gifts. I knew from the looks of the thick stationary that this was not a “Merry Christmas, we miss you” card. It turned out to be one of the most thoughtful gifts I’d ever received in my whole life (aside from life itself – thanks for that, by the way). A small part of the letter was explaining how he always had a hard time finding the right gifts and that he always appreciated receiving hand-written notes like the one he was writing then. It went on to talk about standard parental concerns and boasting about how proud he was of me – you know, things that make you ugly-face cry – and then he wrote for me not to call him anytime soon because he didn’t want to cry as well. Touché, Dad.
I did try to think of something I could send home for a present to say thanks for being a great dad, but I faced the same concerns he did two Christmas’s ago: nothing was enough. A new golf polo really doesn’t say “you’ve impacted my life more than you will ever know” and new All-Clad cookware is nice, but let’s be serious – that’s not in my budget. Instead, I hope I can articulate with my words how lucky I am to call him Dad.
Without blowing his cover on what a massive sapp he is, I will just say he is one of the most compassionate people I know. I can’t remember a moment in my life when I needed something and he wasn’t there to give, or try to give it to me. Not one. I know his concerns have always been if he does enough for his daughters in this life, and I know I share the sentiment with my sister that we are forever indebted already for his constant love and sacrifice. Because of my dad, I am confident in who I am as a woman. I understand the ethic of hard work and the value of a dollar. (I also know how to spend said dollar, thanks to him). I know how to peel garlic and cook a thing or two because I watched him intricately follow Rachel Ray recipes at Thanksgiving and curse everyone out in the kitchen for not being Chef Emeril. I will never again in his presence put garlic in a pan before it’s heated with the proper amount of olive oil. I know how to hold a golf club and swing it, but have not quite mastered keeping my head down. I know this ruined all his LPGA Tour plans for me, but he helped me with basketball regardless. I know all about Bonnie Rait, Robin Ford, The Eagles and good blues music and enjoy few things more today than a night of good wine and classic music. My political acumen has increased significantly since the election of Obama thanks to my dad, but for today I will leave politics out of the conversation.
No matter what I’ve done in this life, my dad has fully supported me. More than supported me, he has and continues to encourage me to do whatever makes me happy. Even when I do some of the dumbest shit on earth, he picks me back up and puts me back together. I’m so unbelievably proud to be his daughter and wish today more than anything we could spend it together.
Dad – I will forever be in awe of you. You’re the best father in the entire world, a constant inspiration in my life, and the most remarkable piece of my soul. I wish you the happiest Father’s Day today, and send you all of my love. xoxo.