So this is what I’m wondering. When you think of your dad in your mind. Your perhaps 40+ year old mind – who do you see? Do you see the dad before you now(and yes I’m thankful to have my father and I intend to keep him for another 35 years or maybe more) or do you still see the dad when you were a child?
Now I assume our parents see us for who we are – the middle-aged messes we now are as opposed to the rebellious teens or snotty nosed toddlers. I only assume this because when I look at my nine year old I see a nine year old and not the the baby she once was. In fact sometimes I look right into her eyes and see her future instead. That sassy teen, that brilliant college kid, the 6’3″ runway model that will support her old mother someday. Right?
But as for my parents, they haven’t aged a bit. They are both frozen in my mind at about 30 years of age. Thin, dark hair and with the ability to outrun me. I mean I see them now in their 60′s with lines and grey hair and a fashion sense that I sometimes question but I don’t notice any of that. I look into their eyes and I see the parent that they were to me..when they were parenting me full-time.
I clearly see my dad racing down the ski hill on those black diamonds, kicking my butt at tennis and driving the golf ball a good 300 yards. Through his eyes I see us sitting side by side at the stock-car races, riding on horseback through mountains and driving too fast in his old Toyota Land Cruiser. When I look at him I still see his big full beard, his smooth face and maybe even a cigarette in his hand(though I’m very thankful he quit that long ago).
I wonder this. If we all wish our parents the gift of not aging, and in our minds they never do because what happens after that.
It’s easy for me to see my dad’s youth when he’s here. He’s not a grandpa who sits around. He immediately sits on the floor and plays games. He tackles diaper duty and taught Eloise how to ride her bike. He takes the kids fishing and likes to tease them and tell jokes. Today he crawled through the little tunnels in a play area with Astrid because she was afraid to go alone. Watching my dad belly crawl out of the tunnel pretty much reassured me that he could still kick my ass in tennis and will beat me by a mile on the ski hill.
And it also reminded me that we really need to take a vacation and try that. Because neither of us are really 30 anymore. And time is so very precious.
Love you, Dad. Thank you for being in our lives. Thank you for crawling after my kids and helping me keep my sanity. Happy Father’s Day. (And thank you for my Saturday latte’s)
Sweet, sweet post, my friend.
Happy Father’s Day to your awesome dad.
Alison@Mama Wants This recently posted..Of Courage and Things I’m Afraid To Tell You
What a wonderful post. Happy Father’s Day to you lovely Father!
Christine @ Love, Life, Surf recently posted..Happy Father’s Day
crying, because you’re so lucky, and because I’m so happy for you.
xo
Alexandra recently posted..The Hypochondriac’s Guide To Life: Or Just Say No To Another ER Visit
Do your parents live near by Tracy? I’m thinking yes with the Saturday latte. I think I see my parents both in the past and the present. Writing forces me to remember, and I like it. You can see the twinkle in your dad’s eyes. I bet you take a lot after him.
Dana @ Bungalow’56 recently posted..My Dad And The ’67 Mustang
Yes, my dad lives close by. My mom is about a 12 hour drive.
This is beautiful, Tracy! It is clear to see when you write about your parents that you were shaped into the lovely person that you are by some really fine parents. They did a great job & you seem to be following in their footsteps with your girls. Happy Father’s Day to your dad!
Melanie H. recently posted..Party All the Time!!!
Aubie I hope you had a great day. Happy belated Father’s day.
I see my dad as he was when I was a tween — wearing gaudy shirts that should have been retired in the 70′s, yet they make his sideburns look like they absolutely belong, playing piano for hours on end.
Heck, there was time that we’d actually compete for time on the piano between the two of us.
For reasons that I can’t really talk about, my dad & I have gone our own ways. He still lives in the house that I grew up in, but it’s a very, very different place. He still has the upright Steinway that precious Saturday afternoons were spent in a strange, though wonderful, game of one-upmanship, but it’s out of tune. I still talk to my dad, sporadically, and we still see each other for family functions, but I fear that the dad that I have in my mind is long gone.
I’m glad that the image of him in my memory is very different than the current iteration
John recently posted..Where I run, and blog, and give
I spent Father’s Day not only with my dad, but with my grandfather who is 93.
We were passing around pictures my aunt brought dating back to the 1950s -
Seeing my grandmother in a bathing suit. With a head of dark black hair? Grandpa in a Hawaiian shirt? (Oh wait. He still wears those.)
I don’t want them to age but they have. We all are. So I try very hard to keep my eye on what we’ve still got now.
At least for today.
Until I can figure out how to stop that clock.
julie gardner recently posted..Today call me silly
I love that picture. Beautiful tribute.
Lady Jennie recently posted..Celestial Dew
Love this. Dads are so special. I’m happy to know you’re enjoying time with him.
)
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