dad. papa. daddy. pop. dada. pere. father. whatever you called him, he is every little girl's first love...he is every little boy's first hero. in honor of all fathers we celebrate you today. i miss my daddy like crazy. he will always be the bar that all men must measure up to in my life. my dad loved my mom like she was the only woman on earth...that's the love i want.
fathers are special beings. they leave a remarkable imprint on our lives. yes, mothers give us our lives and nurture as through it all - if we are lucky...but there is something unique about the relationship with our fathers. i wish mine was still here. he didn't say much but when he did, it came from a special place and there was a lot of thought behind it. i just wish he had told me more because now that he is gone, every word he spoke is sacred to me. i lost him way too soon.
i felt exceptionally lucky because MY DAD CHOSE ME [and my mom]. she said he took one look at me - a fat and chunky baby - and it was love. he always wanted a daughter and i was the lucky girl.
he was talented and skilled with woodworking so i had the most unique and incredible toys. when other kids got plastic rocking horses, my dad built me a wooden rocking elephant and painted her pink! he built me a play house for the backyard, and recycled a standing, wire greeting card fixture into a bird cage filled with colorful stuffed birds and a nest of easter eggs! he maintained my addiction to barbie and baseball cards, took me to disneyland whenever i wanted to go, and threw me the most amazing birthday parties. one year, he made a giant peace sign stencil and painted symbols all over the concrete of the backyard in keeping with the theme of my party. when he poured some cement in the yard, he had us put our hands and feet down so it would be like our version of grauman's chinese theater! at age 13, he made me a desk nameplate because he said i would be somebody important when i grew up. yes, i was a lucky girl.
he passed on many years ago, but there are things about my dad i will remember like he blinked a lot, and his eyes twinkled when he laughed. when you asked how he was, his answer was always, "fair to middling." his favorite chair was the green one in the den. he would sit in it with a TV tray for his snacks and his screwdriver and watch the dodger games. and he always smelled of paint and old spice. he loved gauguin, and he painted in oil. he was a great cook. he did most of it because mama worked swing shift...so it was just the two of us for dinner on TV trays in the den. even when i was a grown woman, i would go over for dinner with dad - just the two of us - and always it was in the den on TV trays...watching the dodger games.
it took me many years to realize why my dad wore old spice when there were so many other men's colognes on the market. it was because of me. it started when i was about 8 or 9. i would get my allowance money at every single holiday - his birthday, father's day, christmas - and go to thrifty drug store which was near my school, and buy a bottle of old spice for two whole dollars. i kept doing it year after year...and he would happily put it on as if it was what he really wanted. sometimes, if i had more money, i would even buy the old spice scented soap on a rope. and there i was one day, in my early 30s, standing in his green-tiled bathroom, opening the bottles of old spice and smelling them before placing them back on the counter. it was then that i had my revelation - you see, even at 30something, i was the one still buying my dad old spice on the holidays! sure, i bought him other things as well but the old spice was now coming from his grandsons.
