A Dad is someone you never outgrow your need for.
He was just twenty years old when he married my mother. Said they had less than $50 to their name. Struggles and work he was familiar with and success would be his reward.
Determined, driven, my Daddy.
I was the second child, the second daughter. I wondered sometimes if he had wanted a son instead of me. That blue-eyed, blonde, curly-headed girl.
In my younger days, I remember a serious-minded towering figure. I remember eating the fish he had caught, car rides standing next to him as he drove, and the security of his arms around me when I was afraid of his bird dog.
In my teen years, he was gone a lot, working, climbing the ladder of success. I remember missing him. Wanting to be his little girl.
Mostly though, I remember a deep desire, a longing to make him proud. To be assured that he accepted me.
Acceptance. Approval. Acknowledgement. It seems like that's what everyone wants, really.
To know we are valued.
These days he calls me often. Just to talk. But one day, this week, he called and said these words that I will never forget...
I have a busy day, lots of appointments today... but before I get started, I just wanted to tell you I love you.
Words I will never get too old to hear.
Thank you, Daddy. Happy Father's Day. I love you, too.