Today is my dad’s 60th birthday.
He wasn’t looking forward to this day. It’s been hard for our family as of late, but all I could want for him on his birthday is to feel proud of the past sixty years. He’s helped make our family who we are.
He’s gone from taking his girls fishing on the pond and letting them do his hair, to teaching them how to drive a standard and scaring their boyfriends. He’s watched us leave for college and not come back (because he gave us the confidence to do so). He witnessed one start a life for herself, and the other try everything she could without direction, until it finally led her 3,000 miles away (and was excited for us both). He’s walked us both down aisles, giving his little girls away with hope that small parts of us would still remain his (they have). Now he’s watching us start our families with the same love we learned from him and mom. And he has been there every step of the way. To me, it seems like a damn good way to spend 60 years.
Dad, if I could tell you just how much you mean to me, I would. Your humor, your ease, your support, your love — this is our Dad.
I’ve been your little girl from the moment you held me in your arms; and even though I no longer fit, I’m still your little girl.
There could never be a daughter who loves her father more than I love you.
Happy Birthday, Dad.