To be honest, when Anna approached me and asked me if I would do a blog collaboration post thingie for Father’s Day with her and Daniel Amador, I was like… “SURE! What in the world am I supposed to write about?!” After all, I’m not a dad, nor even a male to begin with.
However.
I do have an amazing dad, one that I could definitely write a whole blog post about.
So here you go, Daddy. This one’s for you. Happy Father’s Day. 🙂
The Song
The whole idea with this blog collab is that we’d each pick a song about dads, then then use it as a prompt to write our thoughts/memories/etc. on it. I was at a loss as to which song to use. At first, Humdinger by BR5-49 came to mind, but it didn’t really have much to do with dads (other than that line about her pappy running away at her birth XD) and was more associated with memories than anything else. So I racked my brains for songs to use, couldn’t find one, then finally relented and turned to Anna and Daniel for help. Daniel shared a playlist of songs he’d found, and the one that stuck out the most was the one I decided to go with.
Before you read further, listen to Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman.
Dear Daddy…
Although we’ve never danced danced, I have many happy memories of running around the house with you, drumming and generally just goofing off to whatever music you happened to have playing at the moment. I remember the falsetto Barlow Girl at midnight (still happens XD), waking up to hear you whistling outside my window as you worked in the garden, being introduced to how to make playlists in iTunes. Music has been a huge part of my life, and that is thanks to you.
You know, when I tell people that my dad listens to everything from opera to bluegrass to soundtracks to rock to classical, a lot of them laugh and say I’m lucky to be growing up in a home with such wide variety.
When people tell me I have a nice voice, I say it’s because I’ve grown up with a retired music teacher as a father who can sing like nobody’s business, not to mention play all these instruments.
When people tell me I look like you, I take pride in that. Your nose and ears aren’t all bad, Dad. Although, alas, I will never have the red beard you do. *long-suffering sigh*
When people tell me I’m lucky to have a father who cares about the media I consume enough to monitor what I read/watch/listen to, I nod emphatically. I didn’t used to understand that protection, but I appreciate and love it now.
When I see kids my age without a dad in their lives who cares about them enough to even be around, I can’t help but think about how blessed I am to have one like you in my house.
When you tease me about something I said or my weirdness, I know it is an expression of love and I soak it up like chocolate – and maybe tease you back too, some, just to say “I love you.”
When I grow up and leave the house, I know you’re going to cry. I know you’re going to hug me and tell me that you miss the little girl I used to be. I know your heart is probably going to break the day you put my hand in somebody else’s.
But don’t worry, Daddy.
The dance will go on.
I love you. ❤
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