As a child, I was a total mommy’s girl. I never wanted to leave my mom’s side. My parents split when I was in the second grade, and I remember the attachment to my mom only intensifying. Ironically enough, some of my favorite childhood memories were spent at my Dad’s house. I remember trips to Sea World, camping, Big Bear, lake trips, days at my Dad’s movie set, mornings spent at Paint Pals and Discovery Zone, pool parties, and Eggo waffles for breakfast… all happy things. So I look back and wonder why I had such bad separation anxiety from my Mom. You look back on pictures of me from age 7-12 and I was likely crying or had red eyes. It’s something now, that my Dad and I laugh about.
Somewhere during my high school years, my Dad became my hero. The guy that saved me from my crazy, lost self. The one that took me (and my best friend) in when we had no place to go, no questions asked. The guy that funded my many privileges, even when I was less than deserving. The guy that loved me when I was not very lovable. The one that cried happy tears when I told him he was going to be a Grandpa and watched me get married all in the same month. The guy at my bedside minutes after delivering Landyn with flowers in hand. The one that spoils my sister and I with an all expenses paid trip to Hawaii for a week. The one that saved me from an unhealthy marriage and helped Landyn and I get on our feet. The guy that has a soft side and has cried with me before. The one that makes me laugh harder than anyone can. The guy that is a “guy’s guy” yet ended up with 2 daughters and a grand daughter.
I love you Dad. You are my hero, and I owe it all to you.
And to all those who have lost their Dad, who don’t have a father figure in their lives, and too all the single mom’s that play both roles, you are in my thoughts today. For me, I am counting my blessings.
Lindsay