This weekend is my Dad’s birthday. Another birthday, another year older. I think birthdays are like our own personal new years. It marks another year we’ve been alive, and should be fully celebrated. Firecrackers, cake, wine, and great food. I’m doing a DIY present for him. Writing him about how much he means to me and framing it. I’m all about the DIY presents these days. They show more thought and hopefully what I’m making him will be something he keeps forever.
Dad’s are special. As daughters, they are our protectors. They worry about us no matter what and truly believe no man will ever come along that will be good enough. They teach us things that mother’s usually don’t, about cars, how to jump start a car, how to use tools, how to drive, how to play sports, and so on. They let us drink beer at a young age to try and turn us off of it. They say no dating until you’re 30. They let us do far more dangerous things, like drive a snowmobile around at age 8, if you promise not to tell mom.
There are many of my own attributes that I get from my father. We care about family more than anything, we’re stubborn, natural leaders, positive thinkers, patient, hard workers, and both have mild to moderate road rage (I’m working on improving this).
So here’s to my Dad, and all Dad’s. Thanks for being there through thick and thin, for letting me learn from you, and for being my hero from day one.