Pop's Day

http://www.profiletreasures.com/comments/Fathers-Day/Happy-Dads-Day-Man-Boat.pngMy father and I have never really had a great relationship, and, honestly, it frequently feels almost like we do nothing but tolerate one another.

Don't get me wrong; I absolutely love my father. He is always there for me when I need him, and he never fails to offer an objective, logical answer for any of my problems. He's also a genius. Seriously.

I came home one day while I was in high school and plopped my backpack on the floor. It had been a long day, and I didn't want to even begin thinking about my homework until I had vegged out in front of the television and zoned out for an innumerable amount of hours. But as I passed by the counter in the kitchen I noticed a black book with the a double-helix on the front bearing the word "Genome" on in large, white, capitalized letters.

Curious, I opened up the cover and began to peruse its pages. I was immediately engulfed in a world of scientific jargon, words with more syllables than I could comprehend floating in front of my eyes. I can only imagine the face I was making as my father entered the kitchen.

"Like my book?" he asked, smirking.

I glanced up from the page I was currently decrypting with a dazed look. "No," I said. "Not particularly. Why do you even read this?"

"It's interesting."

"Interesting?" I asked, incredulous. "So your idea of fun is picking up a book talking about genetics?"

"Sure," he said. "I'm reading through it with a colleague."

That's right, folks. Not only does my dad read this stuff, but he has friends that read it too. I guess that's what happens when you hang around a bunch of surgeons all day long.

As I said, my father is one of the most intelligent people I've ever met, and part of that intimidates me a little bit. I think that's partially why we don't get along. Well, that and the fact that we simply don't understand one another. He's a surgeon, and my mom's a nurse. Somehow, in a bizarre twist of fate, those genes got together and created an opera singer who loves writing and photography. Honestly, I don't blame him for being baffled by me. I am an odd person with many eccentricities that I can't even begin to understand much less explain to anyone else.

It's because of this that Father's Day has always been a challenge for me. What do I get for a man I don't understand? Not only that, but he's always been one of those I-get-what-I-want-when-I-want-it sort of guys. When I was little, a hand-made card or a picture with a big heart on it saying "I love you, Daddy!!" would suffice, but as I've gotten older my grasp on appropriate gifts has completely dissolved into this mad, panicking delirium. Ohgodohgodohgod, what do I get? I don't know!! Ohgodohgodohgod!!!!

This year was no different, but I think I've actually got something that is marginally acceptable. I have a solo in church today - a song that I picked out especially for my dad. It's one of my favorites, and I'm really excited about performing it: "His Eye Is On the Sparrow." And that's my gift to him. Being as I'm poor and can't even afford to pay for groceries due to several months of unemployment, that's pretty much all I can offer right now. I'll make it up to him when I'm rolling in dough.

After church, I'll be heading to my parents' for our Father's Day celebration. Apparently, there will be grilling, and, in the words of my mother, "there is a filet mignon with [my] name on it." Yum. That's another thing that my dad does really well: grill. His steaks are always excellente and delicioso.

Hopefully, I'll get some quality time in with the fam and maybe bond with my dad a bit.

I hope all of you dads out there are having a wonderful day and that you feel as appreciated as you deserve. It takes a certain type of person to be a dad, and that is not something that goes unnoticed, regardless of how those around you may or may not act.

Dad, you're the BEST father
any gal could have asked for,
and I love you.
Happy Father's Day.

Peace.
Stef.

Comments

Dork Vader said…
Haha, this ALWAYS happens to me, but on mother's day. Serious, I have no idea what my mom would like.
And my mom really doesn't understand me either, but I love her anyway.
Here's to parents!

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