Dad

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A child’s first love is often its parent. For boys, it’s their moms and girls, their dads. As my dad’s birthday approaches, I’m quite reflective. He’s a charismatic man that demands attention in any room. He could spend hours talking to a stranger to share some piece of wisdom he acquired. It’s his nature to give whatever he may have.

Our relationship has had its challenges and growing pains. He would always require a display of respect. Not just for him, but to anyone in the room. Saying a simple, “Good morning” at the top of my lungs was a guaranteed must. On the off occasion, it slipped me, I was surely in for an hour-long lecture. Often times, he’d missed school meetings and have to cancel our father-daughter time. At the time, I didn’t understand it. I thought that it didn’t matter. That I wasn’t important enough for him to be there.

Now that I’m older, I’m more appreciative. I see all the hours that he works to give me opportunities he’s never gotten himself. The way he encourages me to express myself and find something that I love and could share with the world. I notice the way he always makes me walk on the inside of the pavement. And his quick response to any of my missed calls. And when my mother was sick, he showed up. He could have turned his back and walked away like many men these days do, but he showed up. He supported in any way he knew how. Any resentment, any pain, all washed away when I saw how present he was and has always been for me.

Not everyone has the opportunity to make things right with their parents. And that first love can make any future love a tragedy. Now, I am optimistic about love because he's shown me how I deserve to be treated. Be open to returning home, it’s where your healing lies. And on this day when I think of my dad, I’ll leave you with his motto, “Treat everybody equal, equally nice.”