John Is 75 Today!

Today is Dad's big 75th birthday.  Let's talk about him for a second, shall we?  Okay.

My dad had a very busy career, working long hours.  He was up very early in the morning to exercise, eat breakfast, and be on his way by about 6:30AM when he commuted into San Francisco, about 40 minutes away from where we lived.  In addition, he had a lot of leadership responsibilities with my church that kept him going at night as well.  The fact is, he wasn't around a whole lot for my growing up years.  I remember a day when I was young, and he had to go on a scout campout or something.  He asked if I wanted to go with him, and I said no.  I am not totally sure why, but I think I was just feeling shy around my dad, and so that amount of alone time with him was strange to me, therefore not very appealing.  I feel kind of bad about it now, but that was the way I was as a child.  I remember going on one with him when I was a little older when there was a father/daughter weekend for church.  It was great, but when I was little something like that would have been very foreign to me.

HOWEVER.  I don't ever remember a time when I doubted my dad's love.  Not seriously, anyway, except for the time when I was a kid and something happened (most likely I didn't get my way in something) so I decided to run away.  I packed a little plastic toy suitcase and stomped out of the house, not even making it past the front porch when the strains of "Somewhere Out There" from the movie American Tale came to my mind, I started singing, I started crying, and came back in the house.  Actually, my dad was probably at work, therefore not even involved in whatever the situation was, but at that moment the whole world was against me, so he's included. I digress...

I also don't ever remember a time when Dad wasn't there when it really counted.  I was used to his busy schedule; it was all I knew.  We got up really early in the morning to eat breakfast together, and always had dinner together according to the time frame he had.  Mom was really good about that structure, I am sure, partly so we could see him.  He was home part of the weekend (Sundays were a little dicey) and Monday nights as that was a family time.  In addition, all of my performances growing up, and a good number, if not the majority, of my sporting events, were attended by my parents.  I know there were nights when he needed to be at church but canceled his meetings in order to come to my high school choir concert, or a play.  That always meant a lot to me, and I never worried that I had a dad who didn't care, or was too busy.  I knew he was there when he could be, and present when he was there.  As an adult who is more aware now of the pressures he faced during those years, that is quite remarkable to me.

Growing up, I watched Dad make Mom his top priority.  The only times I ever saw him really angry were when we were disrespectful to her.  (Well, and one time when he caught me sitting on the hood of his car).  They kissed in front of us, much to our dismay, when he left and came home.  And they KISSED.  I'm still kind of grossed out thinking about it.  But it was great!  I watched Dad take Mom on dates.  Maybe not every week, but enough that we saw it was important.  They worshiped together as well, and we saw the importance of that.  The example he gave me of how a husband can love his wife is forever imprinted on my mind, and I know I don't need to settle for less.  (Hence the reason I have yet to remarry, but anyway....) The love and loyalty in their marriage has been apparent my whole life.

Enough about the past, let's talk about Dad at the present.  I will say that as I became an adult, I feel like that is when I grew closer to my dad.  Maybe he had more time, maybe I just started to appreciate his dad humor more.  I think both are true.  But I now consider myself a Daddy's Girl, where I don't know that I would have as a kid. 

It's hard for me to describe how I feel about my dad.  I just....think he's the greatest.  I'm not pretending he's perfect.  But for a long time I have had this special place in my heart for him. 

When I split up from my ex, I moved home, as most of my readers (all twelve of you) are aware.  I lived at home for 2 1/2 years, longer than I had planned originally, but it was the right amount of time.  It became a unique opportunity for me to get to know my parents in a way not a lot of adult children get to do.  I know this post is more of a tribute to my dad, but my mom is the other half of their equation, and the third part of the triangle we formed, so I can't talk about that time without including her, nor would I wish to. 

I saw my parents in a way I had not before.  I started to figure out the little things that make my parents tick.  I saw weaknesses and strengths that I hadn't really noticed, or if I had, I saw the root of some of those.  I was party to conversations about what to do with their philanthropic efforts where I got to see how they are blessing lives all the time.

I saw my mom go every day for a week and collect small children from a neighbor who was having surgery and bring them back to our house for the day.  And then watched both parents entertain those children and care for them so that those neighbors could address some pressing medical issues.

I saw my parents hurt each other's feelings.  I saw them make mistakes.  I watched them argue (kind of).  I noticed what made both of them feel insecure.  I got to notice when Dad felt sick, or Mom. Or when they were both so tired but continued to do some good deed because it was the right thing to do.   I had conversations with both of them that started like this: "I'm worried about your mom."  "I'm worried about your dad."  I watched as they slowed down a bit more with age, and worried right along with both of them.  (Although, they still work harder on a daily basis than me.  I wish I had inherited more of that work ethic.  Sheesh). I also watched a love that has lasted over 50 years continue to endure and flourish.  I got to see them hold hands, work hard together, and spend time watching a movie together.  I also gained insight into my own character by watching them.  Multiple times I have thought, 'Oh.  That's why I do that myself.  Dad does it.  Mom does it'.  It's kind of crazy when you start seeing your parents and thinking, 'I am starting to get why I am the way I am.'  For better and worse.  Sorry, guys. Love you. :-)

My mom and I laugh about how Dad keeps binoculars in the cupboard in the kitchen for birdwatching.  We can be in the middle of a conversation at breakfast when he will, without warning, forget what we are talking about, grab the binoculars and start looking at some birds feeding outside the window.  Then, he will describe in great detail what he knows about said birds.  On the flip side, my dad and I laugh about my mom's innate ability to delay gratification.  She wants the cookie in an hour.  We both want it now AND later.  It's the little things, as he says all the time.

Dad was pretty livid about everything I went through with my divorce.  But he never really said much about it.  Both of my parents have acted with class and compassion toward my ex since then.  It has been a great example of treating others with respect, even through their mistakes.  And letting God be the judge.  But honestly, it felt really good to know my dad was angry.  I felt loved and protected to know that.  And then I thought, 'how bad could it really be to have my parents arrange my next marriage?'  Kidding.  Kind of.  Not really.

As I was making the decision to move back to New York and pursue acting again, my parents made it no secret that they didn't want me to go, for various reasons.  And they made those reasons known.  However, as they both knew I needed to make the decision, they stood back and watched me and waited.  The day came when I was ready to talk about the decision I had made and why.  By the end of the conversation, they had accepted that I was going, and were in full support.  If they still had reservations, they never voiced them, and all of that is to their credit.  But I also genuinely feel that support from them, and it means so much.

Moving out again was much harder than I thought it would be.  I was ready, but it was the end of a beautiful time of my life that will never come again.  But I think I gained a relationship with my parents that I didn't have before, and for that I am so glad. 

My parents are great.  My dad is great.  I couldn't ask for a better father.  He is stubborn, silly, conservative, kind, a true boy (warts and all), generous, funny, gentle, loyal, protective, quiet, strong, and good.  And he's my dad.

Enjoy some Dad realness in the videos below.  The first one is a reading that his mother used to do (she's where I got my flair for performing.)  The second is some Dad being a good sport realness.  With a cameo by my sister Teresa's kids.  If you know Dad, feel free to tell a story or memory about him in the comment section.  He will love/hate the attention.  But he is 75 today, so he needs to get over it. :-)

Here's to you, Dad.  Happy 75th!  (Don't think that multiple times writing this I have thought, 'I sound like I am writing a eulogy).

Not a eulogy, Dad.  NOT A EULOGY.  Do you hear me?

By the way, don't expect a serious post for a while.  I'm all serious-ed out.  I need a nap.