Happy Birthday Dad

June 3rd is my dad’s birthday, I know I didn’t write on that day and there are reasons, I really wanted to have my thoughts together for this one.

I loved my dad, he was the best dad on the face of the planet, however, when you disappointed him it took him a long time to get past it. I did something that he was so disappointed with he did not forgive me until he was very literally on his deathbed.

I want to start off by telling you about how truly amazing my dad was, he loved to argue, not fight, argue, debate. He was a master at it and it was one thing that bonded us. We loved to debate, so much so that my mother banned it from the house. We had to debate outside, because we kinda debated loudly. About all sorts of things, one time it was The Beatles, he had read a book that made one of their songs sound untoward.

I told him the word the person had blanked out and made to sound dirty was actually a Russian word, balalaika, which is a musical instrument. I had to actually get my poster that had the words to the song on it and show it to him and then he looked it up in the dictionary. upon me winning that round I got a huh and why would this person try and make it seem bad. I said I don’t know, maybe you should research your authors better.

That smart comment got me grounded for two days. not a serious offense but it was disrespectful. I tended to stay grounded, mostly for my sarcasm, never the eye rolls. surprisingly my parents didn’t get offended by that, I think they knew they were inherent and not going to change.

My dad taught me so much, how to laugh at life and not take myself so seriously, how to think and question everything. He taught me that life was a journey not a sprint and to always, always keep learning. Read everything, learn to use your mind and discern right from wrong. He taught me to always  do the right thing, even when no one is looking.

But disappoint him I did, several times for the same thing, first off I got pregnant, then I had the baby then I gave her up for adoption. He never quite forgave me for that, he did support me and was there for me, but he was so disappointed. He told me he thought I was smarter than that and that I had ruined my whole life.

Then when I got married and started having children he didn’t particularly like that either, he really wanted me to go to college and be an accountant. Mind you I can’t add 2+2 (an exaggeration) but he thought I could get a decent job. I wanted to study history, politics and journalism. Not huge money maker subjects.

I remember when I told him I was pregnant with my last child, Alex, there was a long pause at the other end of the line and he said in all seriousness, I really thought you would have figured out what causes that by now and handed the phone to my mom.

I went to see my dad the weekend he passed away, I didn’t know it was going to be the last time I saw him. He was dying, I knew that, my mom let me have some time alone with him. I begged him to forgive me, he did, he genuinely did. I told him I could not allow him to move on to the next life without him forgiving me. He smiled and took my hand and squeezed it, at that time he was non-verbal. But when he squeezed my hand and gave the smile and motioned for me to hug him, I knew he forgave me.

I loved my dad with all of my being, he was the best dad I ever had, and I had a couple. Happy Birthday Dad, I hope you got coconut cake.

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