the dad in me.

The pops and me... Summer 2004.

Moms get a lot of credit from us girls.

And why shouldn’t they?

Inevitably and with each passing day, we are becoming just like them.

I see signs of my mother all over the place. My nose. My hair. The way I give of myself. My impetuous need to get things done… NOW.

But when I look in the mirror, I see my dad’s eyes.

And when I’m in the mood to be quiet, to think things over, I know I’m channeling that part of me that is my father made over.

I like getting up early and planning fun, romantic dates.

I tackle DIY projects and pick quirky movies that not everybody likes.

These are what make me like my dad.

That, and I like to travel.

And I sneeze after eating mints.

And I eat local.

It’s true that as girls, we often become our mothers.

But what makes us a little bit different is that we have some Dad mixed in.

Thank goodness for that.

I’m not quite sure who I’d be without my dad.

If I’d like homegrown tomatoes.

Or breathtaking sunsets.

Or road trips and airplanes.

Or March Madness.

Or the Kentucky Derby.

Without Dad, I’m not sure what kind of grades I would have gotten.

If I’d be scared of roller coasters and taking the stairs everywhere.

If I’d know my way around a toolbox or a football game or the RICE method.

If I’d read the newspaper or explore the ocean.

If my eyes would squint when I smile or if I’d be comfortable public speaking.

So, this is for you, Dad.

Thank you for meeting and marrying Mom, who I am growing into each day.

And thanks for mixing a little of you in there too.

I wouldn't be me without you.

Happy Father’s Day.