One of the purest forms of love has to be the love of a little girl for her Dad. Today is my Dad’s birthday. Although I’m no longer little, he is still the hero of my heart.
As I celebrate my Dad today, I’m remembering a scene we lived out many times. I’d walk into the living room to find him stretched out on our gold velvet sofa, a bowl of freshly popped popcorn in his lap, intently watching football - a manly sport for a manly kind of guy. Then came the question there is no telling how many times I asked during my growing up years, “Who are we for Dad?” Next, I’d sit down and cheer for the team Dad said we were routing for. I don’t remember it ever occurring to me to cheer for the other team. One thing was for certain: I was for Dad’s team.
When I became a Junior High cheerleader, Dad sat me down and painstakingly coached me at home on the game of football. He flattened out a newspaper on the kitchen counter, using it as a chalkboard to diagram the lineup of the team, making sure I knew the roles of each and every player. I can still see those Xs and Os now. This was one cheerleader who would never yell “D-E-F-E-N-S-E” when her team had the ball!
Over the years Dad taught me about a lot more than football. He ran beside me and held on to the handlebars as I wobbled up and down our driveway learning to ride a bike. He sat next to me and taught me how to drive a car. Like the ex-Marine he is, he showed me where the pressure points were on a person and how to defend myself. He helped me buy my first car, made me apologize to my Mom when I hurt her feelings, celebrated the good grades I made, and somehow made me believe I could be anything I wanted to be.
Yes, a lot of years have passed since these memories. These days, I sit beside Dad during his chemo treatments and am more grateful for his love and character than ever before. But one thing remains the same: Whose team am I for? Forever and always, I am for my Dad.
Really Relating
What’s a favorite memory you have of growing up in your house? Share it, please!
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What a touching post! You brought tears to my eyes. There truly is something special about a Dad and his little girl. I have so many precious memories of my Dad growing up and now I also see the precious relationship between my little girl and her Daddy. He truly is the love of her life right now.
ReplyDeleteIt is hard to narrow down just one or even two favorite memories I have of growing up. I guess that speaks to how blessed I was to have such a loving, godly, fun-loving, exceptional man as my Dad!
One memory is of my Dad's patience as he painstakingly would play "soft toss" for hours in order to help his little girl (who had previously only known of sports that included leotards and skirts) learn the coordination required to hit a tennis ball with the raquet. This game basically consisted of my Dad softly tossing tennis balls as he stood beside me until I could time the swing of the raquet with the ball. He was so patient and never made me feel silly for having to learn such basic coordination. His sacrifice of time set the stage for me to one day actually become competitive in the sport and even coach, but more importantly it is one of the "little" things that great memories are built on.
Another great memory is of my Dad's joy and enthusiasm. My Dad, although a very hard worker, has always chosen to see the fun and joyful side of life. One thing that stands out when I think of growing up is my Dad blasting the Oldies as he sang along. This zest for life could make even the most mundane chores fun.
Thanks for the post Vickey! Your reflections helped me to pause and think about how blessed I am to have my Dad!
Beautiful Vickie!
ReplyDeleteOne of my favorite family memories was nightly bible studies with my family. I don't know how many years we did them but at least three. We had two editions of the yearly family devotion bible. We would talk about the one page story and then my dad would ask us, "What do you think that means?" I think that started my lifelong love of finding the truth from God's word.
That scenario turned in to spiritual and philisophical discussions in the kitchen. We talked about relativism and cultural tolerance and I remember listening to Love and Respect tapes in the truck with him. I like to think these are some of my dad's favorite memories too. He hasn't told me that but I am sure I could get it out of him :)
Jessica Rimmer (the 2nd)
Jessica -
ReplyDeleteWhat incredible memories you have of your dad! Do you know how rare those kind of memories are?! He was obviously very purposeful, which is beautifully reflected in the depth of your personal faith today. You are such a sharp girl; it's lovely to know what shaped you. Thanks for sharing your memories here!
xo, vb
Lauren - what fun memories of a patient and life-embracing Dad! You are going to treasure those forever. There's nothing like a man who is both purposeful AND fun! Thanks for sharing your memories. You are indeed a fortunate daughter :)
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