Dad Stuff

The fact that only your temples are grey, and you had me as a daughter is proof that “black don’t crack” is REAL.  I have been a handful since birth.  Remember when I jumped out that tree in a dress?  It caught on the branch, so when I landed, half of the dress was still in the tree?  I had all these flowery words planned out for you, but that’s not the type of dude you are.  That’s not the type of relationship we have.  I was never your “little girl” or your “princess.”  I remember being your “star face” though.  I remember you telling me that my smile changes my entire demeanor.  But outside of that, we had a fairly pragmatic relationship.  Know this though:  I would lay someone down for you without hesitation.

I know that’s not the type of thing you like to hear.  I’m usually not the type to confess to potential felonies.  But the truth is the truth.  I didn’t realize that most men didn’t buy panty hose and feminine products until I was married and on my own.  You were just a different type of dude.  I used to love when people would come to our house and discover how funny you were.  You always seemed so stoic in public, your being a jokester catches everyone off guard.  I’m also not 100% certain you haven’t hidden at least 4 bodies after a spirited game of bid wist, but I won’ t say anything.

I know that you aren’t crazy about the direction I choose to fly, but I love you for allowing me to spread my wings.  So many of my peers have their parents firmly rooted in their personal affairs, and it makes me so grateful that you respect me as an adult.  I think it’s because you know that when I come to you for help, I’m three steps from the psych ward, the ho stroll, chewing ground glass for a living, or some unfortunate combination of the three.

You are a great dude.  When I have to look at things in fairness and objectivity, you are the first person I think of.  You have always been a man that walked your talk in an age where integrity is lacking. When my marriage was at a crossroads, I went to you for advice.  I didn’t do it because you’re my dad and I felt you would cosign my actions.  I went to you because I knew you could call a spade a spade.  If I was on some bull, you would have called me on it without flinching.

You taught me to not romanticize people for who you want them to be, but rather love them for their humanity.  There are parts of our relationship which I had to work out, and I recognize that your ability to handle them better was immaterial.  I had to accept you as a human, and not as a figurehead.  As such, I hope you understand what I am going to say now.  You may never like the life I live.  You may never approve of what I do.  Morally, there are things that I just see…differently.  Organized religion makes me itch and marriage makes me antsy.  I know these are two things which mean a lot to you.  I just don’t want you to take my altered view of these things as some personal slight.

Knowing you is a blessing.  I don’t think I say that enough.  You’re an amazing guy and a hero.  I love you.  I love you and your fanny packs.

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