Brian and Libby's Blog

Daddy's Girl

Easter 1987? - family trip to NYC. Dad got us a real fancy limo. We watched cartoons in it.

Over the past few weeks, with all of the excitement of purchasing, fixing up and moving into our first home, I've been stopping even more than usual to think about my Dad. This is most likely because my Dad is the special occasion guy. Birthday, anniversary, holiday, graduation, chorus concert, or even just a Saturday...he's your man. He is always the guy with the Hilton Head hat on and the Blublocker sunglasses, smiling from ear to ear.

The image I have right now is him with a grill tool in one hand and a Dorito in the other, standing on the patio, yelling to me at the pool to do a canonball. The funny thing is, my dad did this long after I stopped doing cannonballs. By the time we moved out of our first house, my use of the pool had been reduced to laying beside it to improve my tan. While my sisters' usage was the same, he still insisted that we have a pool in our second house, for parties and family time, of course. So basically I was comatose with my friend Semira at the pool, soaking in the sun, and Dad was flipping burgers and trying to get us to actually go in the pool! His optimism never failed him.

So back to the special occasions...Brian and I were talking about what my dad would have been doing if he'd been there in the flesh on moving day. Here are a few of the things we came up with:

1. He would have been the administrator of the move. That meaning, much like his father, he would have delegated to those of us who were moving large objects, and pointed out successes and faults. Not to say that he wouldn't have contributed, but the majority of his "contribution" would have been in the form of "supervision." Note: I would be at fault if I did not point out that I am truly my father's daughter, because although I did it to a lesser extreme, I think I actually filled this role on moving day! Like Daddy like daughter!
   
2. He would have bought klondikes...in fact the fridge would have been overflowing with them by the end of the weekend, because he would have bought every single variation of klondike. Then he would have bought me an extra freezer for the garage; we always had an extra freezer in the garage growing up...to hold all of the Klondikes. On vacation, Klondikes were a must. They also made special appearances at any family gathering. This action is very representative of my Dad on a larger scale. Every day before he came home from work, he would call and if one of us girls picked up he would say "ask mom if she needs anything" and after a while, her only answer would be "just you." I thought this was incredibly sweet and romantic, but I later learned that she was strategically avoiding the tragedy that would ensue if she did need, say, milk or eggs. That being, he would buy an excessive amount of chips and ice cream, and she would have to buy yet another extra freezer for the garage. Note: Klondikes are now a staple in every Massey and Howe family vacation.
   
3. He would have continuously pointed out how wonderful our house is. Anyone who has met my dad knows that he is a happy guy, but he is also a hopeless optimist and encourager. Not to say that our house isn't great, but there are definitely things that aren't perfect. If my dad had been there, I would not be aware of these things, because he would have occupied so much of my time pointing out all of the excellent features of the house, why they are so excellent, how they will make our lives more excellent, and how he wants to buy us another one...as a housewarming gift (he is also the gift guy). E.g. - "I love that leak behind your sliding glass door! It really looks like you are inside a submarine when it rains and creates a liquid wall which ends at your deck and creates a large spot of mold on the rotting wood. Doesn't the green color make you feel like you are in a tropical rainforest? You guys are so lucky to live in a rainforest!" Pretty tricky, but he is extremely good at turning lemons into lemonade.

Well this list could go on for some time, but suffice it to say that while I miss him daily, I am learning how much like him I really am, and how much of him is entwined in my daily life.

posted by Libby @ 9:33 AM