Father’s Day

I have been reflecting a lot on my life and the people I am fortunate to have. I think back to nights where I would go with my dad to his baseball games. I would sit in the dugouts with the other team members and listen to them trash talk the other team. I remember vividly, one day, it was super cold, and I brought out my book. A book that I was not reading at all. I would carry it around with me to make people think I was smart. My fingers were freezing that night. My dad took off the batting gloves he had and gave them to me to make sure I wasn’t cold. The coach gave me the winning ball that night because I had been “reading” the entire game. When I went to college, my dad signed it the same way he signed his winning baseball from high school. The high school ball he knew I had in my closet. These game nights were the highlights of my week. My dad would get home from work run upstairs to change. He would come downstairs, yelling for his keys. Little me would have the keys ready to go with all his baseball supplies. I would run out to the car with him prepared to go. We would sometimes go to our favorite fast food and get a special drink or meal in preparation. Some days, he would play catch with me as his “warm-up”. Then it was game time. Halfway through his game, he would come back into the dugouts and give me whatever change he had in his wallet so I could buy myself food or hot cocoa. Some days I wondered if he would purposely put money in his wallet for this exact moment. Because any other day and that man never had cash.
We had an SUV with a sunroof, and on two particular occasions, he opened the sunroof and let me stand on the seat. He would hold onto my pants, just in case, and I would have my head and arms out. I would be singing along to my favorite song. Ready to go. I was hyped. It was game time. It was time to watch my father show off how amazing he was. I watched my superman. On nights that weren’t game nights, he always made time for me. Whether it was watching my tv show with me, while making 100 snide comments, or even just grabbing food. He always made time.
When we would ride in the car together, he always let me pick the station, something he still does to this day. It was not until I was older that I realized he would keep the stations I liked on his radio. On his way to work or just around town, he would listen to it. He would try and learn every song he could. He did this so that way when I got in the car and started singing, he could sing along with me. He never outright told me, but it is something I have picked up over the years. I always feel like I can talk to him about anything I need to. Some days he is preoccupied and will give me the generic “oh wow” or “really tell me more.” I knew his mind was elsewhere, but it never bothered me. I knew if I kept talking, he would pick up small pieces, and he would make sure to ask for more information. He always did. He wasn’t good about remembering names, but he made an effort. He listens to me rant over and over again about anything and everything. No matter how many times he hears me say it. Every interaction, every moment, every memory, I know I am blessed to be this lucky. I could not imagine my life without him in it. He has shaped how I see the men around me and what I want in a man. Not for me per say but for my children. I want my children to have these memories and to think highly of their father. The same way I think of mine.

Published by Kathrine

Emergency Room Nurse spends too much time thinking, reflecting, and over-analyzing every detail of life. Hoping to one day figure it all out.

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