Happy (late) Birthday, Dad!

Wednesday was my Dad's 60th birthday. He's getting kind of up there in years, isn't he? Thanks to new baby motherhood, this post has taken a few days to write. Better late than never, right?

When my Mom went to the hospital to deliver me, my Dad bought a football hoping I would be a boy. I wasn't, but that didn't really stop him. I was the ultimate tomboy when I was a kid. I made people call me "Kris". I played softball - and my Dad came to every practice and every game. He would sit in his lawn chair with his big thermos of ice water right behind home plate. He never said or did anything to distract me, but having him there just made me nervous. Maybe that's why all the home runs I hit only happened during practice. I never told him how much it psyched me out to have him sit there.

Dad used to let me shift the gears when he drove. I'd keep my hand on the gear shift and he'd yell "Up!" or "Down!" and I would shift accordingly. Sometimes I wasn't fast enough or I would shift wrong and the transmission would make a horrible noise. But he never yelled at me.

He did yell at me one time when he came to visit me in Georgia. We (Mom, Dad, Gregory, John, and I) were going out to dinner for my birthday. I told Dad to turn left and instead he made a U-turn and got on the freeway. He yelled at me and I yelled back and it made me cry (I always cry when Dad yells at me) and then Mom started yelling at Dad. We finally made it to the restaurant and Dad gave me his gift - a Willow Tree figurine of a little girl sitting next to her Dad, leaning up against him. I cried again.

Dad likes to give jewelry as gifts. He picks out the coolest stuff. Thankfully, John seems to have the same talent for picking stuff I love, so I'm pretty well stocked by now. It's been a few years since I've gotten any jewelry from either of them (hint, hint).

Dad used to pretend to be a gorilla and chase me around the house. He looked really scary, which was part of the thrill. Then he would tickle me until I cried. He tried doing the gorilla to one of the grandkids and scared her so bad she wouldn't sit with him for a while. He hasn't done it since.

One night when I was about seven, I threw up on the floor by my bed. Then I jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom and threw up in the middle of my room. Then again in the hallway. Dad woke up and scrubbed the carpet in the middle of the night. I learned a new word that night - "Crimeny". That's the closest I've heard my Dad come to cursing.

Dad's big on butt-smacking. I've learned to keep one arm over my bum when I hug him, because he hits hard. He also likes to slap and pinch my cheeks while I'm sitting at the table. And never play "Milk the Mouse" with him because he might break your finger. Great fun, let me tell you. John says I play too rough sometimes. I wonder why :)

Dad and I don't talk much. That doesn't mean we don't talk often, it means we don't say much when we talk. Dad and I are more companionable-silence-type people than long conversationalists. Dad and I like to sit next to each other and watch old M*A*S*H reruns. We like to share Twizzlers and Peanut M&M's while watching Spider-Man. This not talking thing much isn't a big deal when I'm in NC, but it's something of a problem now that I'm living in Texas. I guess we need to learn how to talk with our voices instead of our presences.

When my Mom had cancer, Dad suddenly had to be The Mom to a bunch of teenage girls. This means he learned all about periods and tampons and which pads are best for what. A few years later, when my period started, my dad said, "So, I hear you're a woman now". I was mortified. One night I needed some "supplies", but Mom wasn't home. I tried to get Dad to give me the number for the church so I could call her, but he wouldn't tell me until I told him what I needed. I finally gave in and he laughed and said "I'll take you to the store". On the way he explained how he had to do this for all the girls, it wasn't a big deal, etc. When we got to the store he handed me a $5 bill. "I can't go in there and buy it! What if someone sees me? What if there's a guy at the checkout?". I begged him to go in with me and buy the goods. He finally gave in. What a dad :)

Dad's getting kind of sappy in his old age. I don't remember ever seeing him cry when I was a kid. He probably did, I just never saw him. When I was in high school I was part of a girls Babershop Quartet. I sang bass, if you can believe it. At one competition, we sang "Candle on the Water" from Pete's Dragon. I looked down at my Dad halfway through and he was crying! Dang if it didn't make me cry too. His eyes get all watery when I leave after a visit now, too. I try to hold it in until I'm on my way, then I bawl for a while. Every time he says "I love you" before hanging up the phone, it makes me cry.

I called Dad on his birthday. I didn't sing to him, but I kind of wish I had. He sounded disappointed. I totally forgot to send him a card. We chatted for a bit, then I let him go because I knew he was in the middle of a movie. Then I cried. I miss him so much. Having Mom come out just made it worse. It makes me so sad that he won't see his new little grandbaby until she's 2 months old. The worst thing about being so far away is that I can't just up and see my Dad whenever I feel like it. I have to admit I am still a Daddy's girl. I think I always will be.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

I'll be your candle on the water
My love for you will always burn...