To Dad

Dads are the greatest. 

One of the earliest memories I have of my dad is when he rushed me to the emergency room after my older brother put a BB in my ear. Yes, a BB –– one of those teeny-tiny metal projectiles used in BB guns. I can’t remember why my brother thought my ear would be a good place for the pellet, but I do recall he was in “big trouble” with Dad that day. Come to think of it, it was also my brother who talked me into sticking a hair pin into an electrical outlet. Dad wasn’t very happy with him that day, either.

Another very early memory I have of Dad is when we were all picking blueberries in the woods behind our house, and I got tired and sat down to rest. Only I didn’t choose to sit on a log or stump, but on an enormous nest of army ants instead. Before I could take a breath large enough to scream as I watched hundreds of ants running up my legs, Dad was quickly in motion, saving me from both the bugs and the panic. Before I knew it, I was safely back in the house and in the bathtub.

I also recall a time when a neighbor friend and I walked into those same woods to explore one day. There were always berries we were told not to eat, leaves we were taught we could, flowers to pick, and adventures to be had. We were looking for wildflowers that day, and in the process we got ourselves hopelessly lost. Although we were probably within a mile of the house, I remember we were terrified. After hours of  worrying about what we would do come nightfall, it was Dad who came to our rescue after frantically searching miles of woods and fields looking for us. Thanks, Dad.

Of course we all know dads do more than rescue and save. They also fix whatever goes wrong, have advice for every situation in life, and generally keep it all from getting too scary. They are the constant that allows us to try new things and take chances.

When I grew older and moved away to college, my Dad may not have been by my side to rescue me from all life’s trials, but his presence sure was. He wrote me a letter every single week for the four years I was at school. Every week without fail. To this day he still touches base with each of us, sharing in our victories and worrying about our troubles.  

Dads are great, and I for one am glad for a day to thank him for all the guidance and understanding he’s shown me throughout the years.

Brothers, on the other hand, are a whole different story.

 

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