On Father's Day

I admit it.
I compared and still compare every man to my father.
Many of my fondest childhood memories have him doing something, no matter how small, to make the every day special.

He would often bring me a little token from the day. It might just be a candy bar but it was his way of letting me know he had thought of me. 

He came home and slipped it into "my drawer" in the kitchen.

First thing I always did for as long as I can remember is say hello and then race to the drawer to see if there was anything there.

My father on the right.

He was not the disciplinarian.

I don't think he has it in him.

He would complain. But he would never.ever say anything.

I know he worried a lot when I was growing up.

But he never said anything about it. Not to me anyway.

Isn't he handsome? And thin! He must have been about 20 or 21 here. 

He was the dad who always up to driving us everywhere.

And he never complained about all the drop offs. Regardless of how many stops he had to make. And some nights there were many.

He was the one who would always say ok to a trip to McDonald's or Dairy Queen. With neighbourhood kids in tow.

To this day, a banana split ALWAYS reminds me of him. 

And in later years, I often returned the childhood favor by bringing one over to him so that we could share it.

Honestly? The banana split is not my favorite.

But it's his making it alright by me.

His happy place. On the lake, any lake.

He has put on {ahem} a little weight over the years.
It may or may not be all those banana splits.
And I don't need a ride anymore.
But I am still a daddy's girl.

Always will be.

Happy Father's Day dad!