2004-06-20 @ 11:10 p.m.
I think maybe up in heaven it may already be Father's Day, so I thought I would share this with you Dad.
I recently took a diaryland survey and the one of the first questions was: Do you believe at love at first sight? Of course I went all cynical on that old Survey. Pshaw! Love at first sight? Impossible! What are the odds!
But then I remembered something. I remembered the first day I met you. A really handsome guy about 5 foot 6, curly black hair, dark eyes, an engaging smile, and even better laugh.
And we clicked immediately. I liked the way you were kind to animals and tried to understand my mother (possibly one in the same thing, if you think about it). You were so attentive, and laughed alot. We were a lot alike. We looked alike. We were both quiet, yet had a gentle spark when people were nice to us. We both loved to walk and loved nature and loved to look up in the sky to see what kind of clouds were floating overhead.
You taught me that just sitting quietly with someone didn't mean you weren't communicating with them...you were just enjoying their company. You taught me the benefits of staying healthy by walking and how to enjoy nature by just opening the window. And how many hummingbird feeders did you used to keep filled everyday?
I used to love going on walks and bike rides with you. My mom never did stuff like that with me. You did it because you knew I enjoyed it and it was something fun we could do together.
And you used to sing to me. Remember that, Dad? You'd make up songs that rhymed with my name, or you'd sing your old standby, "Cruisin' down the River, on a Sunday Afternoon". Ok, maybe they wouldn't have hired you at the Met, but I always loved the way you sang your favorite songs and that you would sing them TO ME. It always made me feel really special.
And I really think the Guinness Book of World Records would be interested in the fact that we never had one argument during my entire teenage years. Not one. I was a good kid, and you had faith in the fact that I was making good choices and being a good girl, and you were right. That made me feel really good...that you trusted me.
Adulthood was just as good. We were the best of friends throughout my adulthood. We'd talk on the phone every two or three days, and I'd come over every Sunday for the biggest steak you could find down at the local grocery store. I never told you this, but my God Dad, you used to put so much garlic on those steaks, I'd breathe fiery garlic breath for like three days afterwards, but no matter.
I really just came for your company. I enjoyed talking to you and going out and standing on your hill and looking out over the vineyards with you pointing out the various landmarks that I already knew were there. But I'd let you point them out anyways.
We won't go into the mail order bride thing. That pretty much sucked big time. And so did the fact that you got Alzheimer's Disease. I really hated losing you to that. Its a hideous disease that managed to erase an entire lifetime of happy memories.
Now, I hope this doesn't sound too selfish, but I hope that maybe deep down inside somewhere, you might have still had a faint recollection of your little girl...the little freckle faced girl with long braids who totally adored you.
Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty