In the past, this day has been one where I felt so extremely lucky to have the Dad I have. Almost in an 'in yo face' kind of way. My Dad was the BEST. My Dad was better than your dad. Period. Better than all dads ever.
And now he's gone.
I know, he lives on in my heart and my memory, but I will never see his big hands again, or hear one of his super terrible deliveries of a joke. He will never tell me I'm "AWESOME" again, and I won't get to be with him as an old man, which I always strangely looked forward to for some reason.
Remembering my Daddy, I have a few great memories that pop into my head.
His love of cars, and how that got passed on to me - classic cars in particular. For my 16th birthday he got me an Impala convertible, which I would DIE for today, but I HATED it, mostly because I thought it was too big, and my butt was big, and I'd just be the big girl in the big car, and that's a whole other blog. But, my Dad, without even flinching, went out and got me what I wanted (spoiled brat, but it WAS an amazing price) a '69 convertible Camaro. I WISH I STILL HAD THAT CAR!
Learning how to ride a bike, and his helping me with that. The freedom that came from riding my bike, this came from my Dad. I can almost smell the air and feel the feeling of freedom, when the training wheels came off. It's a vague memory, but a great one.
My mom and my dad dancing at all of our bar/bat mitzvahs, and my sister and my brothers weddings. The way they soared around the dance floor. When my Dad would get in the center of the circle, a little drunk, and the smile he had so big on his handsome face.
So many great memories. I drove this man nuts as a teen. I'm sorry, Dad. I was a shit.
Thank you.
I miss you.
I'm sad.
I love you.
Happy Father's Day
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