Today is Father's Day - which also happens to fall on the premiere of Season Six of True Blood. So I have renamed today Maker's Day, to help me celebrate both events.
As you might remember, on Mother's Day I had a mini melt down. I was really feeling bad for two of my childless friends, and today I'm feeling those same feelings for their husbands. Also, since my miscarriage, mother and father celebration days just aren't quite the same. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away. It's been a really long time, but I just can't seem to kick that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Anyway. I have a great father, and I want to tell you about him.
My dad is Bret. If you saw him, you would think he's a hardass. And he kind of is. He has long, frizzy hair that he often pulls back into one of those biker-looking pony tails. He always has huge white circles around his eyes from wearing his sunglasses constantly. His arms are almost black with tan, but every other inch of his body is as pale as one can get without being an actual ghost.
But I also know my dad is not a hardass all the time. He has a soft spot for his kids, his grandkids and his wife. He sits up all night and worries when one of us is sick or pregnant, or away fighting a war. He checks in with me when the weather gets bad. He has texted me every morning since we found tumors in my neck.
When I was a child, the boys in school were pulling my hair. It really bothered me. I went home and told my dad, and I don't know what he did, but it stopped immediately. In fact, all the boys at school were scared of him, which helped me a lot (until I got to sixth grade and grew boobs, and then the boys at school just couldn't help themselves).
My dad is the reason why I drive an SUV, and he is the reason I will never learn how to change my own tire. I'm pretty sure he doesn't read my blog, but I hope he has a great day.