It was an opportunity for me to stand on my own two feet. Car-less, job-less, and not as well-off as a lot of former classmates, but on my own two fat feet making the climb in my own life. He wanted it more than I did, and I just wanted to swim the shark-infested waters of Chicago until I graduated. He saw his kid full of worry, anxiety, and stress. He wanted something better than what I thought I'd already been given.
My dad has been lots of things to me--my heart, my art, and my greatest supporter. Challenged by those who thought he couldn't raise a 3 year old on his own, he got together with his sister and my grandmother to work it out. I think he did a great job. I mean, the world gives you a kid who eats raw bacon, got naked in pre-school because she was too hot, and suggests that bugs makes great pets, you've got a challenge on your hands. Somehow, he gracefully made it to 63 in one piece.
We laugh and sigh about the past, but it was one where he never left me. It was an imperfect one, but somehow he found the balance between doing for himself, and caring for his wild Millennial child who kept him on his toes. He was the "All-American Boomer", but he showed me sensitivity, he gave me honesty, and he introduced me into the world of dry humor. He made being nerdy fun, and he endured every single trend I ran down the hall to warble about.
The memories flood as I write. Where do I begin? My earliest memory of my dad is him putting me over his shoulder to carry me outside to the car. I remember it, because I thought he was a giant as a child. No one could beat him, no one could top him, and his beard was awesome. I remember when he got his hair processed into that jherri curl. I teased him as he misted activator. I told him he reminded me of Luther Vandross.
I close my eyes and I can see him in the various Chicago State University Engineer outfits he wore. I can hear the heavy chain of keys jangling at his side. I smell the metallic scent of a long day, and the soothing Drakkar Noir of the evening shower. I can hear him snoring after that long day, but somehow...somehow knowing when I went into the kitchen to steal a Milano cookie. In that sleepy, booming voice--"Veronica, whatchu doing girl?"
How did he know?!
He fed into my love of books by taking me to Waldenbooks and Crown Books almost every weekend in my childhood. He scoured software stores for educational CD-ROMs to help with Math and English, but also to fuel my writer and art side with titles like Hollywood and KidPix. I can't tell you how many Tamagotchis and Giga Pets I owned because of him, but I do remember having a room and chest full of toys. He spoiled his Spunkmeyer rotten, but he loved me without the material goods at the same time. He tried so hard to balance everything as a single parent.
My dad is an amazing person. I know a lot of us will be writing that in blogs and social media posts. I have been with him for 29.9 years. I have known him for a full 30. I still hear the same voice that told me to stop eating those cookies when he calls me to talk about his rose hobby. I miss him so, so much, but our time to be apart had come. That part hurt the most. Not because all the super bad-good food from Chicago is miles away, or the Keurig we shared is now a solitary tea pot, but because all of our traditions have changed. Because we are no longer 30 feet away in the brown bungalow on Racine street.
He is amazing because he worked his way up from groundskeeper to Plant Operations Engineer in 34 years. He started at 19, and retired at age 56(ish?). When his wife suddenly died, he ignored every single person who said "you can't raise her alone", and dedicated his life to making sure I had everything I needed. He was firm when he needed to be, but loving always. He gives the best hugs, and knows where all the GOOD greasy spoons are in town. He tries to understand me, although we butt heads. He is amazing because of his devotion.
There are so many stories in the 30 years he and I have been together. Lots of pictures--mostly his. What can I say about the man who endured Spice World? He is the man who gained 40 pounds eating Burger King meals when the Pokemon Movie came out, and I wanted the gold-plated cards. The man who read my teen angst with wide eyes, but didn't completely lose it when the Linkin Park-like lyrics were accompanied with salty language. I know he has his regrets about this choice, but he did his very, very best. He did not abandon me, even when I made it very hard for him by being a butt-headed child. He ate the food I burnt, endured the annoying songs of my choosing, and watched some of the most brain-rotting children's films known to man. Also, two words--Discovery. Zone.
He taught me to never give up years and years before I converted to Nichiren Buddhism. His acceptance of the challenge to raise a toddler to an adult was the shining factor that let me know one thing--anything is possible. Not because I or he said so, but because it IS so. Like Picard says many, many times--"Make it so."
(I am not a Trekkie, but the spawn of own. Please be kind if I misuse the quote lol.)
He is responsible for my love of Prince. He is the reason why hardware stores are an awesome adventure. He set the course for the kind of husband I want, and gave me every ounce of soul I have in my body. I grew up on the Southside of Chicago, but I grew UNDER him, his music taste, and absorbed a lot of culture because of him. It wasn't just the classes at Chicago State, or the cool random facts he absorbed in his years of reading books--it was mostly Ronnie David Williams just talking to me like a person. It was him, opening the mind of his crazy child and not putting down my nonsense, but encouraging me to THINK. He make me fall in love with Sci-Fi movies, and somehow encouraged my love of metaphysical concepts at the same time. What he didn't get, he asked questions about. What he knew, he gave me insight.
Pets. He got me my first co-pet with grandma at the age of seven. He kept getting birds after that fact. He is the bird guy, and bless his heart I know it took him a while to fall in love with Parakeets. He saw how much they meant to grandma and I, and continued to finance every single pair. Toys 'R' Us. 87th and Dan Ryan was our spot. Unless I had a super bad grade, he usually said yes when I asked. I had so many ponies and dogs and sparkly Sky Dancers because of him. He made all shopping trips fun. It was just the fact that I was with him that made it so great.
He is supportive of my work as an aspiring writer, and prays and pray for the day when somebody hires me lol. We have the best dialogue, and he makes me laugh. He makes me smile when I hear about the happiness in his life, and I hope I make him smile knowing that my anxiety has somewhat subsided. We are far, far apart, still growing--but it's his love that put me where I am right now. I might not be somebody's girl, wife, or whatever--but I know he loves me with all his heart.
I saw it then in the picture of him holding me the first day of my life, and I saw it again the last time we got to take a selfie together. He didn't have to spoil me, he didn't have to support me, and he sure as heck didn't have to "tell it like it is" when I needed it--but he did all these things and more, to make sure I knew somebody loved me. What more could a daughter ask for?
He exposed me to the things that he knew my mother would want me to learn about in life. He also saved me from a lot of trouble I could have easily gotten into. At times when he needed something, he put me first. He sacrificed everything to meet the challenge, and that is why he will always be #1 in my life.
Love you daddy!!!!
Happy Father's Day to you, and all the other fathers in the world.