Monday, October 8, 2012

Poopdeck is 69!



I am one of the fortunate ones. I grew up knowing what it feels like to have my daddy looking lovingly at my mama and his own mama, too. Which means, of course, he looked at my sisters and me lovingly because he'd already had practice.

Yep.

I can speak of the day that you came up to my elementary school in a three-pieced suit before work just to tell some little girl who'd "found" the Timex watch you'd bought for me in third grade that it had better "find" its way back to my wrist by the end of the day.

It did. You bet it did.

And remember when we drove my Geo Prism from California all the way to Nashville, Tennessee to start medical school in 1992? We hit the world's best second-hand store and filled my apartment with what might has well have been something fit for HGTV. When you left to go back to L.A. I cried the most primal cry ever. I clung to your neck because that moment felt like some pivotal divide between being a child and a grown up. 


More milestones came along. A wedding day with you there to give me away and then your selfless contribution to helping us to train up our boys in the way that they should go. All of us, the fortunate ones.


Today is the sixty-ninth anniversary of the day that you were born. And man, oh man am I grateful for you. Yes, that you're here but mostly because you always have been here. Which means you always will be.



Harry tells me of what it feels like to miss his father. He speaks of those days where that void of having his dad no longer a phonecall away aches somewhere deep. But far more he tells me what it's like to be whole because his daddy loved him. "Nobody can take that from you," he says. I believe that.

And so. 

Happy birthday to you, my sweet Poopdeck. Thank you for your full participation in my life and for helping your daughter to become a woman who believes that she is everything you constantly told her she was--even before she knew it for herself.




I know the advantage that a father's love gives to a child. And thanks to you, I know it first hand.






And they will know a grandfather's love which, I believe, is something extra special.

***
Happy Birthday, Dad. And shout out to every dad like you who "got it". . . and then gave it.

16 comments:

  1. Sigh. Utterly, utterly beautiful.

    (and you went to medical school in Nashville? I lived there for five years -- left in 1991!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love Nashville. That is one great town. Quite possibly one of the only other places I'd willingly go outside of Atlanta and my hometown of Los Angeles.

      (We just keep missing each other in these cities, don't we?)

      Delete
  2. What a beautiful love letter. Happy Birthday to a wonderful man!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Joan. He is a beautiful human being. I am so, so blessed to be his daughter.

      Delete
  3. BHE and the BDE -- you are indeed blessed! And Happy Birthday, Sir!

    ReplyDelete
  4. From the deck of the poop,
    I will cherish this forever! It is truly a love letter straight from the heart! If I knew how, I would insert the song with that title. If you haven't heard it, find it and listen to it.
    Love you a bunch!!!!
    PoopDeck

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Awwww, Poopdeck!Look at you all reading my blog! I will find that song -- are you referring to a song called "a love letter straight from the heart?"

      Delete
  5. Damn. Your daddy's love for you is more valuable than gold. You know that.
    Happy birthday to that man. He has a lot of fans out here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is, Sister Moon. I know that. There's a lot that I didn't have to figure out for myself. I know that this is a blessing. I really do.

      Thanks for showing my daddy some love, as always!

      Delete
  6. Happy birthday to your wonderful father! He raised an amazing woman and he's helping to raise his amazing grandsons too. This is such a blessing, and you write of it beautifully. And your Harry is right, even when our dads are no longer on this earth, their having loved us so well makes us whole. I know that, given the way I am wired, it is my parents love that has made me resilient, that makes me able to choose something other than crumbling, no matter what comes. I hear my dad's voice in my head, always so pragmatic and wise, and when I can't find the answers on my own, I know I will be able to hear his guidance and his belief in me. We are the lucky ones indeed, the children of good fathers. I am happy for you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sister Lister,

      I can guarantee you that this comment will make my father cry big fat crocodile tears. This I can tell you for absolute sure. Thank you for these wise and kind words, as always. I am happy to know you, my friend.

      Delete
  7. Beautiful. Just beautiful. And a good reminder.

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  8. The thing I love most about this post is that is shows how a father affirms/confirms their children's identity/sense of self and how powerful that can be.

    -D

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  9. Hey, I want to print out that picture of you & frame it. That's not weird since we're sisters and all, right?

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  10. Beautiful post!

    I envy, in the best of ways, EVERY woman who has their father longer then the 32 short years I had mine.

    And now I'm off to have the ugliest cry there ever was!

    ReplyDelete

"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan

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