In honor of my Dad’s (would-be) birthday on September 6, I’ve compiled a list of things that make me think of him.
*Country music, but specifically: Toby Keith, Tim McGraw, Kenny Chesney and Garth Brooks
*Christmastime
*Nascar or when anyone says “I was watching that” when you change the channel when they’re obviously sleeping.
*The Lake of the Ozarks
*Learning to drive in the snow in a massive parking lot
*My eye color–My eyes tend to change colors but their go-to color is almost the exact shade that my dad’s were
*Rottweilers
*Classic Rock–specifically Styx
*My stubbornness
*Trans-Siberian Orchestra
*work-a-holics
*Tim McGraw’s “Live Like You Were Dying”
*Jeff Foxworthy/Bill Engvall/Ron White
*My future wedding
*St. Louis sports (Cardinals/Blues/Rams)–He took me to my first hockey game however many years ago.
*Importance of education
*using good handwriting and good spacing when writing and doing long math problems–“We can go to the store and buy you another notebook if you need more paper. Write neatly.” I still remember him telling me this throughout elementary and middle school. My mom was the go-to person for reading, writing and grammar help and my dad was the math go-to person.
Words I’d use to describe him:
hard-working, innovative, ambitious, driven, quick-tempered, but curious and passionate about learning and about life
I’m happy to say that I believe I’m like him in many ways. I think I’m brave, ambitious and a very hard worker. I’m also curious, passionate and excited about the things that life has to offer. We both constantly strived to make our lives better and to try to achieve and do more.
I do remember him being fairly quick-tempered though and I can’t gloss over that fact. I knew I was loved but I also felt that I had to prove myself to him and only toward the end did I realize that he was proud of me. Unfortunate, but I’m glad I was able to hear it.
However, I appreciate many of the things that he taught me whether it’s having nice handwriting or opening up my music world when I was younger. I remember him (both parents, but this is an entry about one) teaching me how to drive in a big snowy parking lot. I remember learning in his big Ford F-150 and his love of having different cars. I also am (secretly) eternally grateful that my eyes seem to be settling on the color that his were because I have a piece of him that can’t be taken. All I have to do is look in the mirror and I’m able to bring him back to me.
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I wrote this the week before my Japan trip and edited a few things just now. It’s a fairly personal piece but I like having a place where I can write down my thoughts and feelings about such things. So…here you have it.