For my family, June is historically a busy month. (Case in point: two years ago, I got married, my sister got called to the bar and started her career as a lawyer, and my mom and mother-in-law both had birthdays, all in one week.) And every June, there’s Father’s Day. Every June, I feel like my dad gets neglected because of everything else going on. And every June, he never once complains. This tells you just a little bit about the kind of person he is.
When I was a little kid, I basically idolized by dad. Not for any of the many reasons I do now, but for little things. Back then, my dad was larger than life. He made the best shortbread cookies and didn’t get mad when my sister and I ate the dough. He was always up for playing Lego or running around the block with me or reading to me or taking me to the park for bike rides. On those bike rides, apparently, I wouldn’t ever stop talking. It’s an early example of how even when I had nothing to spout out but gibberish and random questions, he was always there to listen.
When I was a teenager, my relationship with my dad changed, and I respected him for different reasons. I was involved in competitive long-distance running, and my dad was the one who drove me to every practice and cheered me on at all my meets, even the out-of-town weekend ones. He was the one who made me feel like I was doing a good job, the one high-fiving me and telling me I ran the best race I could have, even if I felt like a failure. He was the one who didn’t care that I didn’t win. In those days, making my dad proud was everything to me.
Only now, as an adult, do I fully understand and appreciate the full extent of what my dad has been to me. A role model showing me what’s important in life: dedication to family, hard work, and taking chances, even if they don’t pan out. A mentor, living proof of what discipline and principle can achieve. A listener, someone who gives honest advice. A friend, someone to laugh with and talk to about anything. A supporter, someone incredibly generous and giving, the kind of person who would do anything to make life easier for somebody else. When I found out that FIRSTS was going to become an actual book, I was so excited to tell him my news and hear the pride in his voice. But the truth is, he was already proud of me. He has been proud the whole time.
I got my dad a chain necklace one Christmas, a dog tag engraved with Father, Hero, Friend. It was a great gift, except for one limitation. It just didn’t have the space to include the other things he is to me.
It’s not the dog tag’s fault. It’s just kind of impossible to find the space for everything.
To all the dads out there—I hope you all get to spend an amazing day with your families and the people who love you. To my dad, the father who is everything—you deserve the world, but I hope you’ll be okay with a backyard barbeque instead.