A letter to dad.

hello all.

It's rare that I post blogs so close together, it seems that life is so crazy busy these days. 

But every now and then I get an idea in my head.. and I can't let it go, and that's when I know that I need to stop and type it up.

So even though I really should be studying for exams right now, I'm gonna take a short study break and write another letter. 

And I'll go ahead and be honest by saying this is the one I've shed the most tears while writing. 

Good tears.
I doubt it will have the same affect on you that perhaps another letter has had, but I hope you can appreciate it all the same. 

To the one who is both judge and jury, good cop and bad cop: 

There's no sugarcoating it. You have a hard job.
Not your actual job, which is incredibly challenging on its own (but you rock it). 

Your home job.
Your parent job.
The whole doing both mom and dad job. 

You buy groceries and clean the house before and after work.
And take care of the dog, and the cars, and the yards, and pay the bills, and make dinner, and buy house furnishings, and give medical advice, and teach me how to check my oil over the phone, and read through school work, and answer my 3 random phone calls a day and do a thousand other things every single day.

It's not easy. And yet every day the sun rises and there you are, just doing it, without complaining, without putting burdens on your children, without being bitter or upset.

I mean, you had your world completely rocked. 

Your future drastically changed. 

You never expected what happened to happen. 

And yet, your attitude is one free of bitterness, free of anger. Free of what the world says you should be like. 

You had no choice but to accept all the things that suddenly came your way.. dance recitals and planning birthday parties and dentist and haircut appointments.. you were suddenly on your own for vacations and Christmas and just putting dinner on the table every night.

And as I've gotten older,  I realize now more and more how absolutely difficult that had to be.

But growing up I never once questioned that you'd be there for every birthday, every performance, or doubt that you'd read over every paper and listen to every presentation. 

Like most parents, you are never "off".
But you never even get the option to be off.
There was no back up who could sign for a permission slip in school or stay home with me during wisdom teeth recovery. 

Vacations by yourself or with friends were few and far between, if ever. 

And yet, you never ever failed to make sure Austin and I got to do something for Spring Break. Even if you had to work yourself overtime for weeks to prepare and then catch up.. it was important to you that we got to be with our friends. And family vacations too. 

I still laugh when I think about the fact that the first time you took us on vacation by yourself was also the first time Aus and I had ever been on a plane, and the first time the two of us had ever been out of the country. What an adventure, right? 

That's pretty much how it's alway been though. An adventure. The three amigos. 

"The Team" as you like to say. 

And while you never did quite learn my sense of style (I don't really even know my sense of style), the fact that one year you went to the department store and asked the ladies in the girls department what was in style that season and then bought it for me remains one of my favorite Christmas present memories. 

Moving houses two years after mom died still blows my mind. I can't believe you managed to do it and redecorate a house and work a full job. Even though I'm pretty sure my whole summer was spent in Lowes.

But I want you to know that the fact that her portrait hangs in the back hallway, and that there are  pictures of her in our house random places, and some of her favorite house decorations line our shelves... that means so much to me. 

Thank you for never hiding her memory from us. I know it is hard sometimes to talk about her. But I love it when you do.

And also, while we're on this note, I am so thankful you found people who make you happy. The last thing she would want, or I want, is for you to be alone. Just wanted to mention that. 

You have constantly sacrificed so much for yourself so I wouldn't be without. Time, money, things. 

There are so many things I could thank you for, it would take pages and pages. 

But thank you for teaching me to be myself. To run my own race. 

It really has stuck in my head. When I begin to compare myself, I hear you telling me that I need to stay true to the Lord, and stay true to who I am. It's something I've needed a lot in college. 

Thank you for being my number one supporter. 

For reading every single paper. For listening to all the speeches. For listening to me cry on the phone from an hour away, and just sitting there because you can't understand the words I'm trying to say. For telling me to keep writing, to keep following the Lord and my heart. You are my encourager and I know you always have my back and you have no idea how much I need that. 

Thank you for supporting my crazy dreams and ideas too.

Like this blog. And my summer in Clarkston. And my work at EFM. And all the things that I am hesitant to pursue because I worry, and you encourage me to try and see where the Lord is leading. 

Thank you for showing me what it looks like to follow the Lord.

Seeing you read your Bible every morning encourages me to keep reading mine. Getting devotions through text messages from you reminds me that I am not alone on this path. 

You have every right to be mad at God. And you're not. 

And if that is not testament to the saving grace of Jesus, I don't know what is. 

You remind me every day that the Lord has a plan, and while we don't always understand it, we just keep going with it. 

And you don't just say it. You live that out, every day.

I think it's fair to say that me and Austin's lives growing up weren't exactly normal.
I don't think any of my other friends cooked tacos for dinner at the age of 12 or knew by age 16 that the most quality pair of little boys khakis that seemed to be the most stain resistant came from Khols.

But I wouldn't change anything about those years. You gave us as normal of a childhood as we could possibly have. And you appreciated the fact that my maturity came early, while still knowing that I could be a sassy teenager when the need arose. 

And while your jokes kill me with their puns, and your white tennis shoes drive me crazy, I admire you so much. I talk about you a lot actually. And Austin.
I strive so hard to be like you.
I don't know if you know or not, but it's time I told you.. contrary to my high school beliefs, I really do think you're cool. 

You probably have no idea how many times people have told me how absolutely wonderful you are, how sweet you are, or how much they love you.

To them you are a great attorney, an awesome friend, a man who is following the Lord, a quality neighbor, a nice boss, in general just a cool guy. 

But to me, you are my encourager. my chef. my supporter. my mechanic. my first-national-bank-of-dad. my motivator. my judge and jury. my back up. my good-book-suggester. my favorite fellow boater. my gene giver (thanks for the skin). my first call when things are rough. my favorite dance partner. my funniest full-of-puns person. my biggest role model.

Mostly though, you're just my dad.

Everyone's right when they say that you are the sweetest.
I'm so grateful that God gave me you as my dad.

So Happy Birthday daddio.

It hasn't been easy, but you're killing the job.

I love you so incredibly much. And I'll see you Wednesday after finals. 

Love,

your favorite daughter