He never judges me. My father, a pastor and deeply religious man, has a way of never making you feel ashamed about a mistake or a tough decision. He's never judged my major life decisions. He's never judged my hair styles. He'll offer an opinion, but even when I go contrary, he's still there cheering me on.
He never complains. My mom, sister, and I were talking about this one day. We've never heard him complain about getting up and going to work. We've never heard him complain about not having what he needs. We've never heard him complain about going out of his way for us. I'm sure he has inner dialogues with himself, and I've found him in his office, head in his hands, figuring out how he was make things work, but he never complains. I'd like to think that my problem solving nature is a direct reflection of his tenacity and unwillingness to give into hard times.
He's not afraid to be sensitive. He loves us with his whole heart. He built his world around his girls - my mom, my sister, and me. He taught me that men can be strong and that they can cry at the same time. Those things aren't mutually exclusive. There was nothing sweeter than having him marry us as he fought through his tears.
Dad, it's been an honor to have you guide me through this life. It's been a pleasure to be your daughter and to watch you grow over the years. It is my joy to now give back to you. You deserve to reap the benefits of your labor. Dad, I love you infinitely.
Until next time...
No comments:
Post a Comment