One summer I worked as a receptionist in an office that was on the way to many appointments my dad made for work throughout the week. He would often stop by and take me out to lunch, always getting out of his car and coming into the office to pick me up. And he always held the door for me. He’s a gentleman, my dad.
One day, a co-worker happened to walk by while he came to pick me up. When I got back, she made a special point to come tell me how lucky I am. She told me how much she missed her dad who has passed away and how sweet it was that my dad would take time to come visit me during the day.
I felt ashamed and proud and grateful at the same time. Ashamed that I had a dad and she didn’t, that I wasn’t cherishing up every single moment with him. Proud that I had such a fantastic dad. Grateful for him, and also grateful that somebody pointed out to me that I should be grateful. And ashamed again that somebody had to point it out to me for me to fully realize it.
This weekend, he made a special trip to come to Utah and spend the day with me in a library doing research on his great great grandfather (my great great great grandfather), Benjamin Brown. We found a goldmine on dear Benjamin and family. Letters to his wife and to his sons. Telegrams. Poetry written by him and by his son. Programs for special events his son had been in. We found pictures of my dad’s dad as a child, of my dad’s grandparents, approximate addresses of his grandfather and of his great great grandfather. We found pictures of his great grandmother and of the house she lived in. It was genealogy heaven.
But what I realized after spending 7 hours in the library with my dad that day was that he was really just doing the same thing that he did that summer I worked as a receptionist: making a special trip to spend time with me. It was a trip that was about 800 miles further than the trips he had to make that summer when we both lived in the same state, but it truly didn’t matter what we were doing, just that we were spending time together.
And he held the door for me.
{ 4 comments }
I cried when I read this, both because I felt so happy for you, and sad because I missed out and because I can’t spend more time with my children. You are a lucky girl.
Dad’s are the BEST. Don’t really know what I would do without mine (I mean, my mom is amazing too..but that father/daughter relationship is totally different). Love this post!!
This is beautiful. You made me cry. I just lost my Dad in November of 09. It has been awful trying to deal with it. Enjoy your Dad (and Mom, and kids, and husband, and friends, etc.) as much as you can, because you never know what’s going to happen. I know that first hand.
Your dad is a gentleman. That has to be one of the best description words for him. How fun to do geneology with him – your family has been doing so good at that stuff.
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