prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2007-01-27 - 6:14 p.m.
My father is the most wonderful man in the universe. and I love him with all of my heart. He is a big giant of a man, a former small town football hero, who went to college on an athletic scholarship. He grew up so poor that he only had 2 pairs of pants, and he paid for them, with the money he earned (as a KID!), picking tobacco in the scorching Georgia heat.
He is very brave and loving, a man of quiet fortitude. In all the years that I have ever known him, rarely has he ever raised his voice. and he is so very devoted to his family, his country and his job ( in that order). He has made numerous sacrifices to support his family, and still continues to do so.
One of my favorite memories of my father, were the 2 years that we spent living in Rhode Island, where he managed my Aunt and Uncle's gourmet foods and produce store. I was almost ten years old, and felt so very very grown up, when my father let me accompany him to the Boston Markets at 5 a.m. to select the produce and meats and seafoods for the store. We would drive up in an old rickety truck, stopping first for a big fat greek diner breakfast, and I could order whatever I wanted, something my penny pinching mother would never have approved of. and I would wait in the truck, while he made the produce selections, and he would bring me an ice cold yoohoo, to drink, while I waited.
We would converse about random things, all the way there and back, and I felt so very important and special to have this time with my father, (as I was at that time, the eldest of 5 children and having one on one time was very rare.)
and that feeling of specialness would last all week long, like a warm blanket being wrapped around me, keeping me safe. the knowledge that I was loved. and important. to my daddy. he always called me "punkin".
he still does.
I may be 36 years old, but there isn't a day that goes by that I have not needed, my daddy. He is the first one I call, for so many things, a funny sound that my car is making, a financial question, or to ask how do i put air in my tire, etc.
On Christmas eve, he came over and helped me to put together Sierra's Desk, it took several hours, and he did it with so much love in his heart.
He lives in Iowa in a small apt, working a job that he does not love, and flies home, every 3 weeks. for 3 days. at a stretch. He made this sacrifice for his family, because he works as a quality control engineer for an electrical company that transfered him, quite frequently. and we were always moving with him, to Long Island, Delaware, N.Y, etc, and having to switch into new schools mid year, and it just became too hard to keep uprooting the family. and so, my parents bought a log home, on 40 acres, in Upstate NY, and my mother stayed home to raise a not so little family. We had horses, and sheep. and chaos reigned supreme. and my father, continued being transferred, to Alabama, and Arkansas, and Nebraska... and Mississippi, and Illinois and Iowa...
and living a small life in tiny rented apts, in strange cities, working overtime so he could support his ever growing brood back home. and It killed him to have to miss so many of my brother and sister's athletic games, he once drove 16 hours straight, to watch my sister in a basketball tournament.
and all the while, with his simple humble background, he made sure that we all went to college and had everything that we needed. Quietly slipping us a twenty or a secret debit card, and saying, " don't tell your mother"
He never thinks about himself, never buys himself a thing, wears his shoes into the ground. everything that he does, he does for his family.
and Sierra. LOVES HIM. SHE WORSHIPS HIM. She talks about him all of the time. "Papa gonna read to me, when he comes home, papa gonna take me to the park, papa love me SOOO much. "
and I am so grateful, that Sierra and I both have him in our life. I know how lucky I am that I have had such a wonderful loving father, and it pains me to think that Sierra is growing up without one, but the truth is, my father has stepped up to the plate and gone above and beyond. He does so with pure love and Sierra has him wrapped around her little finger.
and we both are under the same spell. We are PAPA'S girls! We tried to get Sierra to call him, GRANDS, when she was a baby, but for some reason, she has always called him PAPA.
the other day, Sierra lost her purple balloon, it flew up high in the sky and disappeared out of site. Sierra was upset for a few seconds, but then she smiled, and told me " that alright mommy, papa gonna get me that balloon, when he come home on the airplane, he gonna be up in the sky so he can get it!"
And I smiled, and wiped a small tear from my eye, cause it is true. Papa can do anything in both of our eyes, he is a true superhero*.
* and for many other reasons to numerous to list, including being a wonderful adoptive father to Marissa, who suffers from autism. And championing for her rights and taking on a huge battle with the school district to ensure that she is treated with dignity and offered an enriching mainstreamed education, when other people his age are planning their retirement and spend their free time on the golf courses.
old starlight - new starbright
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