Yep, I'm a Daddy's girl.
Deal with it!!
I'm pretty sure I've been a daddy's girl since the start. As long as I can remember, my dad has been someone that I could talk to, hang out with, and depend on; he taught me things nobody else taught me, everything from baseball to using a power drill.
As one such daddy's girl, I am very proud of my dad. I love him to death, and no matter what happens in my life or our relationship, I will never stop being grateful that he's my dad.
I'm here today to share my proudest moment of my dad.
Now, I have lots of reasons to be proud of my dad. He hasn't had an easy time of it; he's dealt with his share of sorrows, troubles, and bad turns.
I am proud of my dad for raising three kids, for building us bunk beds and teaching us how to use our computers.
I am proud of my dad for supporting us through years of homeschooling, for coming from a long day's work to a frustrated child at the kitchen table, and taking the time to sit with us an explain our math (something that still eludes me, despite his best efforts and good teaching!).
I am proud of my dad for teaching us to cook, and to be creative in the kitchen. A recipe is still something my dad doesn't use, and his cooking is delicious.
I am proud of my dad for beating cancer and sticking with us.
I am proud of my dad for dealing with an incredibly difficult decision, for accepting assistance with grace, for caring for four people (and three dogs) through a long, hard transition across the country, and for still taking the time to visit me when he's in the area (and "in the area" to my dad means Pittsburgh--now that's dedication!).
But my proudest moment of my dad has very little to do with all of this. He's clearly an amazing man, and a great father. But my proudest moment came just a few months ago.
This is the first time I've mentioned this on this blog (which is mostly ridiculous, because the only people who read this already know), but my parents are getting divorced. It was not a mutual decision, and it's been a very painful time for all of us, and a time of big transitions.
My proudest moment of my dad came when we were talking through what was happening, and my dad was expressing his great hurt and anger at the situation. After a while, I asked if he was thinking of starting to go back to church, and he answered "I already did start going to church."
Tears filled my eyes.
This littlest comment, this small detail of his life, was the most relieving and hopeful remark I had heard for the entire phone call. My dad was strong enough, not just to deal with this, but to come out a better person on the other side. If my dad was going to cling to his Savior in this time, and connect himself with a loving, supportive, church body, he could do this. He is going to be just fine.
I am so proud of my dad for choosing to rebuild his life in this way. I am proud of my dad for staying true to the beliefs he has taught me since childhood. I am proud of my dad for being strong enough to choose what is right.
For all these reasons, and many more, I will always call myself, with pride, a daddy's girl.