Tomorrow is my Dad's birthday. I'm writing this tonight because it is on my mind right now and I have a few moments of peace and quiet. Imagine that! I don't know if my Dad will read this...I will have to call my Mom, tell her to tell him to get on my Facebook, tell him HOW to get to my blog, etc. etc. etc.
My Dad is a great fascinating man. I have many fond memories of him. When I was young, he was a Special Education teacher at Fairview High School. He would spend the summers at home with us kids. One memory I have of him is when it was lunchtime, he would make macaroni and cheese and fill up our bowls. One for Joe, one for Debbie, one for Chris, and two for Dad. And that is when I learned what fairness was. From that point on, and to this very day in my life, my Dad treats every single one of his children, our spouses and every single one of his grandchildren EXACTLY the same. There are no favorites. He makes Excel spreadsheets for EVERYTHING! He spends the same amount of money at Christmas on everyone. Nobody is favored, nobody is loved any more than the next and we all get teased just the same. It is nice to be in a family where there are 18 of us and we are all treated the same. I just love it! Because in life, that NEVER EVER happens.
When I was in high school, I was in FBLA. I was in a typing competition. My Dad came and watched me type through the skinny window at the competition. Call me crazy, but that stays in my mind and is as important as a Father sitting in the stands at a football game rooting on his son! WOW.
There have been a few times in my life that I have been extremely sick. One time is when we lived in Arizona right before moving back to Colorado. I had a short stint with septic shock. I remember having 6 week old twins and my parents just happened to be in town for the weekend. I was lucky to have them there. First, to help with the babies. Second, to support me. Although being septic and completely drugged up, I remember my Dad sitting by my bedside saying breathe Debbie, come on, get your oxygen level up to 90%. BREATHE. I know you can do it. Come on. I know you can do it. Just amazing. I WAS the cheerleader in the short skirt with the big smile, the blond hair and loud mouth....yet here he was cheering me on to just BREATHE! I did it Dad, thank you. Unfortunately, that isn't the only time I've been septic and you've been there through the other awful time as well. I truly appreciate your love and support and dedication through all of those yucky times.
If you know one thing about my interests at all, you know that I am passionate about fishing. I love to fish. I dream about it. It relaxes me. I get excited just thinking about it. It does not gross me out. I love catching them, I don't mind cleaning, I even like eating them!!! I get big bright blue eyes when I realize it is MY weekend to go camping/fishing with my parents in the summer alone without my kids! We spend the whole weekend just fishing and fishing and fishing. I love it. When I die, I want my fishing pole in my casket with me. Along with a picture of me and the biggest fish I ever caught. That is exactly what I want. I am putting it in my will. I covet my fishing pole. I do not let anyone use it. I protect it like I would a newborn. I am not sure if I would love fishing this much if my Dad did not take the time to teach me how to fish and the importance of waiting to actually CATCH a fish. All those years he spent untangling my line from my brother and sisters. All those years he showed me how to string up my line the correct way. To this day, I use homemade weights that he made when I fish. Not Wal-Mart weights, my Dad's weights. They work and I catch BIG fish. Thanks Dad.
Anyways, I know I can count on my Dad at any time for anything. I don't talk to him nearly as often as I'd like. But when I do, I enjoy it. He's a good man and I'm thankful to call him my Dad. I consider myself very lucky to have him so close and I hope that he has a really great birthday. He has truly helped me become the person I am today and I love him and thank him for that.
Happy Birthday Dad....you skinny walking machine! Love you!