I thought for a really long time tonight what I wanted to get you for your birthday. I know you didn’t want a gift, and I know we both love gifts and honestly, it makes me a little sad to get you nothing so I thought I would write you this little letter in hopes it can be a placeholder for something much better someday when I can buy you an RV or a monkey, or a monkey-themed RV, or a lifetime supply of donuts, or a dozen Daisies (the dog, not flower… though nothing can compare to the one we already have).
And while I want to say happy birthday in the best way I know how, I also want to say how grateful and thankful I am to have a father who supports me regardless of how many times I am the human version of a run-on sentence. The kind of Dad that knows his kid is a little on the outskirts of normal town, but still makes it a point to leave a light on when I make it home.
That I’m not your darling debutante daughter, twirling in frilly academic accolades and basking in the opportunities of the corporate career spotlight.
That I stumbled and knee-crawled through most of my formal educational hallway but the way you smiled at my college graduation let me know you were proud of me regardless of all the Pomp and Circumstance it took to get me there.
That one time when I wasn’t approved for a lease for my first apartment, you left a message on the potential landlord’s voicemail saying I was going to be a famous writer someday and then she’d be sad she missed this opportunity.
That you read an article in the newspaper by a women who had written a book about following your dreams and then you went and bought me that book and sent it to me because you believe I should do the same.
That you’ll read this, because you read everything I write because you’re very simply, my greatest fan.
That there are countless, numerous, endless other ways I could thank you for being there for me and for believing in me and that just saying Happy Birthday just doesn’t feel like enough.
And I don’t want this to get sappy and corny and like some kind of Hallmark commercial or room temperature cheese (though I know we both love both) so I will conclude on this:
My entire life people have told me you are so much like your Dad!!! And when I was little, I would be deeply offended fearing an impending inevitable lady mustache. But now I see a man who never takes no for an answer, who always gets a job done right, who makes those around him laugh effortlessly, who is confident, who is kind, who is bright and who is, above all, a good husband and a wonderful father. And I want to be just like him. Minus the mustache. 🙂
So on that note, Happy Birthday Dad!
Thank you for being my biggest fan.