Birthday letter to my dad

Dear Dad,

When I was little, and I walked behind you, I would purposely try to step in the exact same spot you had just stepped, hoping that this would ensure that I grew up to be just like you. Even though I don’t still try to step in exactly where you stepped, I still hope I grow up to be just like you.

When I was little and I wanted to be held, I’d run in front of you, throw my arms into the air, stand on my tiptoes, and hope you got the hint. You always got the hint, and you always picked me up.

When I was three, you built a swing set for me. And, there, I learned to swing. You pushed me in fun ways. One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to goooooooo. You taught me how to skin-the-cat on the trapeze, and how to pump with my legs.

In fifth grade, when I got bullied on the bus (even though I don’t remember this), you drove me to school.

You’d sometimes surprise me by showing up at my school with my bike, and we’d ride bikes home together. (Of course, one time you strapped me in the baby seat on the bike and then crashed the bike… but I forgive you J )

In 5^th grade, I had my biggest report due to date. You sat all day with me, reading the encyclopedia, teaching me how to create an outline, and showing me how to type my outline on Word. When my teacher was impressed and said she “expected a great report,” you kept helping by showing me how to turn an outline into an essay. I got an A.

You went to all of my soccer games and, after so many games, when I still wanted to keep playing, you spent the afternoon sweating away with me in the backyard, playing even more soccer.

You watched many gymnastics practices and attended every single gymnastics meet.

When I wanted to practice tumbling in the backyard, you’d be my spot.

When I decided I wanted to run for miles, but you wouldn't let me run on my own around town because I was too little, you measured the perimeter of our yard and told me how many laps equaled a miles.

When I was older and went running around the neighborhood, you'd come with me on your bike - just to keep me company.

You were always home for dinner and, even though you had just put in a long day at work, you dedicated your evenings to helping me with my homework.

When Chris and I raised enough money to build a tree house, you built one with us in the backyard.

You tucked me in every night of my life until I was nearly 18 and told me a bedtime story. I’m pretty sure that, if I asked, you’d still tuck me in and still tell me a bedtime story.

When I was little and wanted to sleep in your bed, you let me climb right in. And I know if I wanted to climb in now, you’d let that too J

You let me invade your personal space all the time J You let me sit close to you in front of the TV, put my legs on your lap if I feel like stretching out, sit on you if I can’t find a chair.

When I was in high school, you took me to see The Princess Diaries. The main character gets her frizzy, curly hair straightened, and, suddenly, she is “beautiful.” You turned to me and said, “I liked her hair better before.” At the time, I thought you were out of your mind. Only now do I realize that you were telling me you thought I was beautiful – even with my out of control afro.

You’ve always encouraged me to form my own independent beliefs – whatever they may be. When I was in 9^th grade and told you I think Bush should be president, you just nodded your head and let me have whatever opinion I wanted. You didn’t tell me it was a bad opinion; you simply let me expand upon my thoughts. Later, when I told you I think Bush is doing a terrible job, you never told me I was right or wrong, you simply let me believe what I believed, and listened as I expanded on my thoughts. In short, you allowed me to form my own opinions and talk myself to my own conculsions.

You always answer the phone when I call (sometimes I have to call 5 times to trick you into thinking I’m dying J), and you always step outside of a meeting to talk to me if I have a question or need your thoughts and advice.

You have come to every single theatrical production I’ve been a part of. And, on that note, you’ve driven me to countless rehearsals.

For your birthday, you’ve given your kids and your wife money and told everyone to donate it to a charity of choice.

Ever since the day I moved out and went to college, I’ve talked with you on the phone pretty much every day. And even though I make fun of you for spacing out and not listening, I know you listen to everything and care deeply about everything I say and feel.

You came up early for my college graduation and took my professors and me out to dinner. I’m so glad you got to meet them.

You’ve always looked out for my well-being, telling me to do the things that are best for my sanity and health.

When I ask you to edit my cover letters and resumes, you promptly do so. When I ask you how to handle a certain situation, you help me navigate right through.

You play with your kids in the snow, swim with them in the pool. You are an active dad – in the action, not just watching from the sidelines.

You have stayed up late with me, watching TV and eating cereal.

You searched for a doctor for me in college when I had eating disorder complications. When I didn’t want to come home last year because I was “too fat,” you called Jane and Tracy. When I ran out of the restaurant two thanksgivings ago, you came and found me. When I came home this summer, regressed, you took time off work to fly up to see Jane with me. You have understood the importance of me continuing to see Jane and Tracy, and you have supported me in doing that. I wouldn’t be so healthy now if it weren’t for your support (emotionally, intellectually, financially). The biggest change in all of this over the past six months has been that you and mom are let it. Thank you for being so helpful.

You’ve been my example for balancing kindness and compassion with care for self and loved ones. You treat everyone who crosses your path with compassion. You smile and greet all people from all walks of life. You look the person in the eye behind the cashier when you say thank-you. I have never once heard you pass judgment on anyone. Yet, you do not sacrifice your well-being or that of your family in order to please someone else. You have mastered walking that line between giving to others and taking care of your family (I hope you take care of yourself enough…. ) How do I better communicate this? You are giving without being a doormat. You are compassionate without being a martyr. You have a solid, deep type of confidence that I can learn from.

You’ve been my financial example. You don’t spend your money on fancy, shiny material goods. You spend your money on education, charities, some traveling, and a lot of saving.

You’ve been my work-life balance example. You work hard when you work, you relax hard when you relax, you do ‘family time’ hard when you’re home, and you play hard when you play. You’ve shown me that a person doesn’t have to choose between being successful in their career or a good family person. You’ve been successful in your career while always putting your family first. You take time off work, but you’ve still been successful. Seeing you live like this, gives me the courage to ask for days off, to put friendships above pleasing my bosses, etc.

You have shown me how to live fully. You never want to just sit around. You always want to go, go, go and do something. I love that about you! You keep yourself and those around you active and entertained.

On touchy subjects, you are so open-minded, thoughtful, and deliberate in your words. As a result, you are the best communicator I know.

I never wonder what you think of me because you have told me so many times. I know that you love me. I know you think I’m smarter than my years. You think I’m an innovative thinker, a great public speaker, and wonderful with people – a natural leader. I know you think every square inch of me is beautiful. I know you think I am more capable and talented than I even recognize. I know that you are sad when I’m sad, happy when I’m happy, proud when I’m proud. I know that you would do anything for me.

Dad, I would do anything for you too. I’ve never prayed a lot, but, growing up, and still now, I have always said one prayer repeatedly. It goes like this: Dear God, I hope so much that my dad, mom, brother, and sister know how much I love them. I love them so much and if I could only ask for one thing, I’d ask that they know how much I love them.’ I have a picture of you, and I look at it when I have said that prayer. In college the picture of you was always taped to the foot of my bed, so that I could look at you while I said that prayer. I hope htat prayer worked and that you are able to feel how much I love you. Not to be morbid, but I wish we could die at the exact same time, so that neither of us has to ever live without the other.

Dad, I have something that so many people don’t have. I know I can always come home to someone who believes in me. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, I can always come home and you’ll always love me and believe in me.. Thank you. Thank you from every molecule of my being. Thank you for being an involved dad, a loving dad, a dependable dad, and a source of endless love.

My whole life, I’ve bragged about you to friends – and it’s easy to see why. I love you so much that it’s impossible for you to understand how much I love you.

I only hope that, one-day, I can be as amazing of a parent as you and mom have been for me.

I love you with all of my soul.

Love always,

Laura

Sorry if this picture grosses you out, but I love this pic: