Ode to my Dad
As fathers go, I think I got a choice pick. Although my mother now says that he was at a bit of a loss at what to do with me when I was an infant, I always remember him being there once I was old enough to converse with him. He picked me up from school when I was sick, coached my T-ball team, and attended every one of my school concerts and plays. He was always there with a camera to take pictures and I always knew he was proud of me.
My Dad was a scout and taught carpentry while getting his engineering degree. He was always building us something (a toy box or a bench), taking us camping, fixing the house or, later, teaching us all we could ever want to know about computers. When he was 16, he wrote a Letter to the Editor stating his conviction that the local girls should be allowed to form a rugby league. He was raised by a working mother and believed that women should be afforded equal rights, even back in the mid-1950’s when that letter must have been a bit hard to write.
Yes, he worked a lot. I always remember him bringing work home. But I also remember all the times he put the work down in order to help me with my homework or watch a little skit I’d come up with. I was a very lucky daughter who never had to question his love for me. On this Father’s Day, I’m proud to have such a smart, goofy, fun Dad who provides me with a great example to live up to as a Mother.
