…the beauty of seeing things through…

It’s father’s day, and my dad is here cleaning the house because he won’t just SIT STILL AND ENJOY HIS DAY. Such a stubborn man. But I am going to talk about my Dad, I don’t think I ever really do, so here it is.

My Dad is probably the best man I know, seriously. I know every girl says that about her father, so it’s fine. But I just have to talk about him. My Dad is 100% faithful, loyal, and trustworthy to the core. He has always been the one to bow low and humble himself and let everyone else have their way in every way. In my family, my mother runs the show – I mean this in the most loving and sincere way possible. But she’s the boss, ask anyone of us kids. What mom says goes. Dad knows this, but there’s an underlying force that is called the voice of reason, and my Dad. He has a way where he can let my mom have her way, but then in a soft, quiet, and gentle tone, reason with her. At first she won’t listen, she won’t budge – but I know when no one else is around, she admits he’s right and she’s wrong. He can get a little whackadoo at times too, and sometimes we just have to keep reminding him that the entire world does not rest upon his shoulders, and we don’t expect him to always save the day.

My mom is always telling me how I’m Daddy’s little girl, or his baby, and quite often I protest because I look at my relationship with my Dad and I don’t see that at all. But what I am learning, and slowly realizing is that I AM a Daddy’s girl – he just doesn’t vocalize it as much as those Dad’s would. He’s a strong silent type, he won’t open the floodgates or show too much emotion because it would be just that – too much. But I know I am through the few words he does say, and mostly through the looks he gives me any given day. I know that I mean the world to him, even if I don’t hear it. I know that he would do ANYTHING for me, if he was physically capable of doing so. And I know it bothers him that he isn’t able to do the things for me that a Dad does – like helping his only daughter move into her new apartment.

My Dad has struggled with Multiple Sclerosis for about 22 years now, and as of recently its become a lot worse, to a degree where he cannot walk without some sort of assistance, and he should probably be in a wheelchair and not be driving, but he’s a stubborn mule. I mean as I am typing this he’s outside on a ladder somewhere because “something needs to get done” the man drives me crazy at times, but he’s persistent.

My Dad has never been invasive, or nosy, he’s always respected my boundaries as a person, and his daughter, partly because I think he knows that he can trust me, and he believes that I am living my life the way the Lord is leading and guiding me. We don’t talk too much about deep spiritual things, or even life, but I believe he has the understanding that I am who I am, and that’s how God made me. I am proud of my Dad and the man that he is. He isn’t perfect in any way. But he’s a good man. I think these lyrics to one of my favorite Paul Simon songs sum it up the best, and I plan on dancing to this song with my Dad one day.

“there’s never been a father who loved his daughter more than I love you” and that’s the truth…