I've written an exhaustive amount about our sweet (almost) eighteen month daughter. I've written countless times about the wonderful man I married. I've expressed my amazement with my Mom's photography abilities. I'm pretty sure I've never sat down and just typed about my Dad.
He's a stereotypical outdoors Idahoan. A complete wardrobe in camo and pretty close to everything they sell in Cabela's stored in his garage. (Which makes gift buying ridiculously hard!) He loves the outdoors and during the pleasant weather months doesn't let the opportunity to be outside escape him. Camping, hunting, fishing, golfing...you name it, he loves it. He's a go-with-the-flow guy...anything works, as long as there is friends, family and fun involved. He'll never skip a party or an opportunity to socialize. If you need to get a hold of him in the summer, just drive up to his house- he'll be sitting in his short back chair in his casuals with a beer in his hand petting Sammy and waving as all the neighbors drive home. He's a hard worker that puts everything he has into the family business and has always made time for us.
My dad is a major flirt...I grew up in a household where it wasn't uncommon to see my parents kiss, hug, wink or say "I love you" to one another. Sure, when I was little I would respond with a nice, loud "ewwwww!" when I would see them kiss, but I appreciate their PDA immensely as an adult. After 35 years of marriage, he is still a little sophomore with a crush on the older senior. He still flirts with her. He still wants her to sit next to him in the rocking chair...still wants to steal a kiss or pat her on the butt as she walks by...no shortage of "you're Mom is a hottie" comments and I love it. To this day, if I have the camera in my hand and take a picture of the two of them- he has to lean over for a kiss. He loves that woman to pieces, and he isn't afraid to show it.
He has the most contagious laugh of anyone I have ever met. I remember laying in bed at night and watching the flicker of their black and white TV project under the cracks in the door...and then the laugh would come...and I would just lay there chuckling to myself- cause have you ever tried NOT to laugh when someone is laughing hysterically? Hard to do. Every once in a while I will watch a hilarious movie and think to myself "I have to watch this one with Dad" for no other reason than to hear that distinctive, precious, contagious laughter.
My dad is a major softie. A man definitely in touch with his emotional side and not always willing to show it...cause wearing sunglasses definitely covers up the tears, right? Wrong...your little nose turns red and I can see it coming a mile away. There are two kinds of criers...those who can cry and you can just compassionately look at them, and those who cry and you start bawling right along with them. He's the later. When we're at a wedding, a funeral, talking about Grandma/Grandpa Mouser, reflecting on Sydney, etc...if I don't want the tears there, I have to just not look at him. Whenever there is a long pause on the phone- I know there's tears. He's got a heart bursting with love, and sweet emotion that comes from that. Be proud of your tears, Dad...it's an amazing way to show others how much you care.
We have one ongoing disagreement. We both like our steaks cooked differently. He's continually trying to get me to eat my steak medium, and while pink is a nice color to wear...I don't eat my steak pink. I want it dead, dead, dead and you could kill it again just for good measure, please? I'm open to trying it (more) rare than I prefer, as long as once I DO give it a valiant effort- you COOK MY STEAK the way I want it!!! Ahhh...so it continues...I'm sure I'll hear another round of "but Megan, if you close your eyes and just try it you'll love it- it just melts in your mouth. This is the way steak is supposed to be cooked"...and on and on and on. Admittedly, he can cook a mean steak...but most days if it's Dad's turn to cook you'll hear "Where are we going?"...and who doesn't love that?
He's the best kind of friend to the ones he holds close, grand-parenthood fits him perfectly and the kind of Dad you want in your back pocket- one that you can call on anytime you need him, for anything.
I love you, Dad.
3 comments:
I just yelled down to Dad to tell him to look at your blog. I think I will stay up here for a little while to let the tears subside. Sometimes in moments like this, you just need a few minutes to yourself to take it all in. This was such a beautiful post Megan ... and yes to all you readers out there ... he is just like she says. I got lucky didn't I.
Thank you Meg. What a great post. Love you.
Awe, so sweet. Loved this. And, for the record, he is right about the steak ;)
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