Today,
my daddy turns 50. And yes, even at the age of twenty-two, I still refer to him
as my daddy. Why? There are many, many reasons for this. I once heard a quote
that summed it up perfectly into one sentence: “Any man can be a father, but it
takes a special man to be a Daddy.” My daddy is a special man, indeed, and I’m
not the only one who knows it- he is respected, loved, and looked up to by so
many people. Without a doubt, I am blessed to be his little girl.
My
daddy always takes time for his family- and to him, family is not limited to
those who are blood relatives. As a child, my favorite days were Saturdays with
him. We always started the mornings with a stop at Wawa for gum and coffee,
before heading off to Home Depot or the feed store, working on countless
projects, or spending time at the barn. Whenever we worked on projects, he
never told me to leave him alone. Instead, I was allowed to help, even if it
was just handing him nails because I was too little to do much else. As I got
older, he taught me the proper way to do all of these things, from painting to
changing the oil to gardening and yard work. He loved having people over, and
gladly welcomed the constant stream of friends and cousins at our house. When I
reached the school years, he always attended as many functions as possible,
from silly little plays and field trips to board meetings and graduations. He
never once complained about picking me up from soccer or drama practice,
rushing to get me to a concert or rehearsal on time, or even taking my friends
home when their parents couldn’t be there.
My
daddy supports us in our interests, and encourages us to pursue what we love. Once
I began riding horses, he spent every Saturday morning at the barn with me, and
later a few weeknights and even some Sundays as well, whether it was cold and
windy or suffocatingly hot or if he had a long to-do list waiting for him. Over
the years, he has accompanied me on countless trips to look at horses for my
sister and I, even spending whole days going from barn to barn in search of
that “perfect” horse. He has spent hours at different barns, watching me show,
train, and get thrown off who knows how many times. On show weekends, he never
objected to letting a few friends spend the night after we got home late from
the barn, waking up before sunrise with us to stop at Wawa on the way back to
the barn, loading the horses nobody else could manage to get on a trailer,
keeping track of all our equipment, wiping boots, attaching numbers to our
backs, staying with the horses so we could watch the other competitors, and
even leading misbehaving horses around the show ring on occasion. Even now, he
still goes to the barn with my sister and I and watches us ride or helps us
groom out the spring sheddings (which is a monumental task, by the way).
My
daddy knows the importance of making memories and family time. Every year, he
takes us on vacation at least once. As I grew up, my summers were filled with
camping, fishing, trips to the mountains, and hanging out at the lake. In the
warmer months, he drags the boat down to the bay on Sunday afternoons so we can
tube, attempt to ski, swim, fish, and come home exhausted and sunburnt, but
happy and with new memories made.
My
daddy takes care of us as well as cares for us. He painstakingly taught me to
drive, helped me find the right car, and made sure I could drive well in the
snow before letting me off on my own. When I was a new driver and there was a
snowstorm while I was at work, he came at the end of my shift, cleared off my
car for me, and followed me home in case there was a problem. He taught me to
shoot as a child, then later bought me a gun and made sure I knew exactly how
to use it. During all my years of wearing a back brace, he drove me to
countless appointments and various doctors and hospitals, learned how to adjust
it, accommodated me in all of the things I suddenly couldn’t do with it on, and
encouraged me to keep at it even when it hurt. When I was very young and my mom
worked weekends, my daddy learned to do my little-girl hair for church and
somehow managed to get three small children dressed, clean, and out the door on
time. When I was twelve and broke my nose, had to have surgery, and couldn’t
wear my glasses for two months but couldn’t see anything without them, he
constructed a baseball hat with a hook to hold the middle of my glasses close
enough that I could see through them, without them touching my nose. Every time
one of us is sick, he’ll run out in the middle of the night to get tissues, Vicks,
a movie, Tylenol, jell-o, or whatever else we may need or want, then sit up
with us all night if need be.
My
daddy is a godly man. He has always taken us to church every Sunday, as well as
Wednesdays when we were younger. He is still putting the fourth child through
Christian school. He led us in family devotions and prayer for years, making
sure that we all got in the habit of spending time with God on a daily basis.
As
my daddy turns 50 today, I want him to know how much he is loved, respected,
and appreciated. May the Lord bless him with many, many more good years yet to
come!
