13 Years: 9/13/13

I probably shouldn't have called my father "Daddy" for as many years as I did.

But I did.

And it never occurred to me not to- that it wasn't very adult-like.

In some alternate universe where time does not pass, however, you are still my daddy.

In that universe I am young.

Much younger.

I have not forgotten you.

But I am not sad,

Not as often.

Whereas I once tried to forget the heartache of losing the first man I ever loved,

I now welcome those amazing memories.

The calloused hands that showed years of hard labor.

The laugh that made your eyes close and your head fall back.

The way you would waltz into a house party to retrieve me if I hadn't called to let you know I would be home late.  Yikes.  Embarrassing.

The way you avoided sitting on couches and chairs and preferred to sit on the floor.  Literally- you could not be seen on anything plush.  Hard kitchen chairs or a floor only.

The way you would fall asleep while you watched a show like "Cheers" late at night but would deny you were asleep when we'd yell "Daddy!  You're asleep!"

The sound of your table saw at work and the way the lights in the kitchen would flicker when you ran the table saw, which drove mom absolutely insane.

The way you would waltz into Home Depot, oftentimes still wearing knee pads or safety goggles and those hideous jeans with all the paint stains, and get what you needed for whatever project you decided to teach yourself how to do (you liked to start a lot of them, but finishing wasn't always your intention *chuckles*, which, without coincidence also drove mom insane).

13 years ago today marks the last conversation I had with you.   I called you and mom and you were so happy for me and the news that I had gotten a job.  I could hear the smile in your voice and I remember you exclaimed "that's great, sweetheart".

If you were here today, I just know you would have a reason to tell me, "that's great sweetheart".

And just this morning I smiled while I watched Baloo scratch his back on a tree while singing "Bare Necessities".   Who knew a clip from the Jungle Book that Sayler and I enjoyed, sleepily, could remind me of you, earnestly using the wall as a back-scratcher.  Which, now that I think of it.... is really weird, dad.

Resourceful, yes, and very typical of the way you didn't like to rely on anyone else or anything else.

If we ran out of eggs or milk, you wouldn't allow us to borrow from our neighbors, which is only weird now because people don't do that anymore anyway... do they? You were light years ahead of the trend!

Make due.  That was you.  You taught me to be resourceful with what I have.

Why just last week when Ariel and I hit the town I managed to jerry-rig a shirt, turning it completely upside down, legs through what should have been the neck-line and bamboozled my way into a bar.  Honestly, dad, that make-shift tube-top dress was a bit short but I know you didn't give a rats ass what anyone thought about what I wore after I turned 18.

Before 18? No way!  But when you knew I was able to make my own choices as an adult, you defended them, even when one of your many sons asked "are you going to let her go out like that?"

Pfffft. Aaaaanyways.

I chucked up the deuce, because I knew you approved and that is what mattered.  And now, when I think someone is making judgement about what I wear or do or say or think I quietly chuck up the deuce to them, too.

Thank you for so many great and wonderful memories.  Thank you for all of the amazing things you taught me.  13 years ago today you were still with us, and so much of what I am grateful for today is because of you which is a reflection of you still being here, with us.