What? Did you think I had already given up, only three letters in? I couldn't very well post on Friday or over the weekend and give anyone the impression that they could expect updates around here with any regularity, could I? I thought not. You understand then? Good. I'm glad we had this little chat. On with it you say? Oh. Okay already, gawd! You don't have to be all bitchy about it..geez!
Today is 'D' day, as referenced in the title. How is that for originality?! I lay in bed last night thinking of what to tell you about today, if you can believe that. How sad is it that I lay in bed thinking about what to blog?! Kind of makes you wonder about the lack of content (read: ME) when you suddenly realize that I actually put thought into this, doesn't it?? Scary.
ANYWAYS...D-Day. Excuse the tangent, once again I am easily distracted by the shiny. Oooh look, a pretty butterfly...
*ahem*
I could tell you about my love for my dog, Divot, who is a 'D' on both accounts, since he is an amazing little creature who brings much joy to my world and is a definite member of the family and totally my baby. Or I could keep it generic and tell you that I choose my DELL as my 'D' item, because without it there would BE no blog or gaming or BIFFS or Internet anything. Or I could have said my favorite 'D" was the Dominican Republic, where my little sister MOLLY (read: lucky bitch) and her husband Shig (read: best Christmas present giver in the world) are going for vacation in a few days. But those seemed kind of like the easy way out when what my real favorite 'D' thing is:
My Dad.
I am 38. (gasp). Good God it is almost painful to say it, but I did. I am 38 years old and honestly, I am still admittedly a Daddy's girl. Even when he drives me friggin crazy (which he does, a truly astounding feat from 3000 miles away, God love him and his overprotective/overbearing self.) If I am ever feeling uncertain(read:immigration) or in peril(read:9/11), I still hold in the back of my mind my last option: Call Dad to come get me. It has always been the ace up my sleeve. It has always been my biggest comfort, knowing that I had it if I needed it. Silly? You might think so, but it is what it is. I had the kind of parents who always told me that if I needed an out, I had one. Just make the call. I never did, but you never know. I will, if I ever need to and there is huge comfort in that. For me. Not so much for them, I'm sure. Here they thought they were done and are sighing and rolling their eyes, thinking 'Dear Lord give me strength'. But anyways, this isn't 'P' day, for parents, its about my Dad. So back off Mom, and wait for M, alright?
Back to My Dad..
The guy who didn't have it all as a kid. Hell, he didn't even have it anywhere close to easy, growing up, but you wont hear him complain. You wont hear him tell the details of what had him join the Navy at an extremely young age as a means of getting out of the house he grew up in, he just doesn't do it. I've asked him, plenty of times, and on the rare occasion he shares but it isn't something he likes to speak of. He doesn't dwell on it. It doesn't control his world. I believe it has shaped him, but it hasn't defined him. It made him strive to do more. To do more and to be more. More of a parent, more of a spouse. More upstanding and moral and a better person, overall. It made him who he is today and as painful as I am certain it was to be where he was as a little boy, it helped make him a truly great man. And I am thankful for it. Because it allowed me and my brother and sisters to grow up in a house where there was no question.
No question of who loved us--We were told each and every single day that we were loved, by both my Mom and Dad.
No question of where our next meal would come from or where we would live--We had the good fortune of living in the same town, on the same street, from as far back as I can recall until when the last of us four kids moved out. (Granted, the minute we did, Mom and Dad sold the house for something smaller in hopes of seeing (read: supporting) the last of us and the many vagrant friends we brought home over the years. It didn't work. just sayin...).
No question about right or wrong--We knew, without a doubt, the difference between the two because he didn't just dictate it, he led by example and lives it.
No question about what is truly important in life--That a man's riches really do not mean a thing when it comes down to it, but that being honorable, upstanding, honest and of good character are far more important than how much money a man might have in his pockets.
I could go on indefinitely about the value of the lessons my Dad taught me in life. I really could, but this is already registering waaaaay too heavy on the Cheeseometer and I just cant do it. Suffice it to say that my Dad is one of the people nearest and dearest to me and I adore him. I think the world of him and he is definitely my hero.
He also is the funnest dude I know to sit down and partake in a couple of glasses of wine with (much to the chagrin of my mother since she has to deal with his headachey self the next day).
And? Check this out:
Not only is he handsome as hell, but he golfs! Hellooo...common interest! Can you guess what our favorite thing to do when he is around is? Exactly!
So, there ya have it. The D, it is DONE.
Today is 'D' day, as referenced in the title. How is that for originality?! I lay in bed last night thinking of what to tell you about today, if you can believe that. How sad is it that I lay in bed thinking about what to blog?! Kind of makes you wonder about the lack of content (read: ME) when you suddenly realize that I actually put thought into this, doesn't it?? Scary.
ANYWAYS...D-Day. Excuse the tangent, once again I am easily distracted by the shiny. Oooh look, a pretty butterfly...
*ahem*
I could tell you about my love for my dog, Divot, who is a 'D' on both accounts, since he is an amazing little creature who brings much joy to my world and is a definite member of the family and totally my baby. Or I could keep it generic and tell you that I choose my DELL as my 'D' item, because without it there would BE no blog or gaming or BIFFS or Internet anything. Or I could have said my favorite 'D" was the Dominican Republic, where my little sister MOLLY (read: lucky bitch) and her husband Shig (read: best Christmas present giver in the world) are going for vacation in a few days. But those seemed kind of like the easy way out when what my real favorite 'D' thing is:
My Dad.
I am 38. (gasp). Good God it is almost painful to say it, but I did. I am 38 years old and honestly, I am still admittedly a Daddy's girl. Even when he drives me friggin crazy (which he does, a truly astounding feat from 3000 miles away, God love him and his overprotective/overbearing self.) If I am ever feeling uncertain(read:immigration) or in peril(read:9/11), I still hold in the back of my mind my last option: Call Dad to come get me. It has always been the ace up my sleeve. It has always been my biggest comfort, knowing that I had it if I needed it. Silly? You might think so, but it is what it is. I had the kind of parents who always told me that if I needed an out, I had one. Just make the call. I never did, but you never know. I will, if I ever need to and there is huge comfort in that. For me. Not so much for them, I'm sure. Here they thought they were done and are sighing and rolling their eyes, thinking 'Dear Lord give me strength'. But anyways, this isn't 'P' day, for parents, its about my Dad. So back off Mom, and wait for M, alright?
Back to My Dad..
The guy who didn't have it all as a kid. Hell, he didn't even have it anywhere close to easy, growing up, but you wont hear him complain. You wont hear him tell the details of what had him join the Navy at an extremely young age as a means of getting out of the house he grew up in, he just doesn't do it. I've asked him, plenty of times, and on the rare occasion he shares but it isn't something he likes to speak of. He doesn't dwell on it. It doesn't control his world. I believe it has shaped him, but it hasn't defined him. It made him strive to do more. To do more and to be more. More of a parent, more of a spouse. More upstanding and moral and a better person, overall. It made him who he is today and as painful as I am certain it was to be where he was as a little boy, it helped make him a truly great man. And I am thankful for it. Because it allowed me and my brother and sisters to grow up in a house where there was no question.
No question of who loved us--We were told each and every single day that we were loved, by both my Mom and Dad.
No question of where our next meal would come from or where we would live--We had the good fortune of living in the same town, on the same street, from as far back as I can recall until when the last of us four kids moved out. (Granted, the minute we did, Mom and Dad sold the house for something smaller in hopes of seeing (read: supporting) the last of us and the many vagrant friends we brought home over the years. It didn't work. just sayin...).
No question about right or wrong--We knew, without a doubt, the difference between the two because he didn't just dictate it, he led by example and lives it.
No question about what is truly important in life--That a man's riches really do not mean a thing when it comes down to it, but that being honorable, upstanding, honest and of good character are far more important than how much money a man might have in his pockets.
I could go on indefinitely about the value of the lessons my Dad taught me in life. I really could, but this is already registering waaaaay too heavy on the Cheeseometer and I just cant do it. Suffice it to say that my Dad is one of the people nearest and dearest to me and I adore him. I think the world of him and he is definitely my hero.
He also is the funnest dude I know to sit down and partake in a couple of glasses of wine with (much to the chagrin of my mother since she has to deal with his headachey self the next day).
And? Check this out:
Not only is he handsome as hell, but he golfs! Hellooo...common interest! Can you guess what our favorite thing to do when he is around is? Exactly!
So, there ya have it. The D, it is DONE.
4 Comments:
Make-a me cry, and that's not an easy thing to do
Ok, Dee. That.Was.Fabulous. I thoroughly enjoyed it. A wonderful tribute to a super dad. Yes, he is handsome. Lucky Momma! I love that picture of the two of you. And fun to be around to boot.
Now, I am off to have a bit of salt to glaze over all that sugar!!!!! :o)
While I agree that 'Dad' is the perfect D tribute, there is also another little "D" you forgot to mention...AHEM....
The friggin dog gets a shout out?
Whatevah...you know my 'D' would have been....okay...DIET COKE.
GOOD JOB Banana!! ...next comes "E" (if you would like you can remove my comments so everybody doesn't find out you don't know the alphabet)
P.S. Good Job making everyone teary on a monday morning.
P.P.S. I hate to break it to you...I AM DADDY'S GIRL...wanna fight?!?!?!
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