I've been trolling my memories lately to see if there is something I've not yet discovered. Bits and pieces of my life as a daughter have started to return.
My Dad was the backdrop to my young life. As a young child he was there at dinner times and always had a good story about his day; asked us questions about our days and was the first to crack a joke. He read to me in the evenings. Sitting cozily beside him, wiped out from our days we plowed through the Narnia books, and many others, together.
My Dad was the one to rescue me after my fall off our backyard swing set. He had been gardening and saw it all happen. One broken arm later and a few months into school, he surprised me with a huge bouquet of balloons for my 6th birthday.
As I grew older he made time to coach my softball team, and my friends thought he was the best. Corny, silly, creative and honest. A great combination.
My Dad was the one that drove me to the hospital emergency room when I wasn't able to breathe.
As I grew older still there were honest and hard conversations about family, church life and friends.
And ultimately, my Dad helped me land my first job as a File Clerk when I was 18, fresh out of Highschool. It was the greatest job. I learned about the healthcare system, while making new professional friends.
The best part though was seeing my Dad every day at work. He would introduce me to his Doctor friends and I would feel so proud to be his daughter. We would eat in the cafeteria together and we would chat. I loved these lunches.
For my Highschool graduation gift he gave me his cafeteria number so that I could eat for free whenever I wanted. It was only supposed to last a summer.
But life gets in the way and I flunked out of college my first year and returned home to the same job. My parents helped me find an apartment and financially they let it be known that I was on my own.
However.....I continued to use my Dad's cafeteria number for lunch. I don't know why he didn't change the number. He had to have known. Months went by. A year went by.
We continued to see each other at work and occasionally we would still have lunch together. One day he presented me with a very expensive bill and asked me to explain myself.
It had felt good to use his cafeteria number, I confessed. As well as saving me a bunch of money, it had made me feel connected to him. All the cafeteria ladies knew I was his daughter. Reciting the number at check out made me feel important, successful and happy to be related to someone so passionately friendly and popular.
He sternly put in place a pay-back system. I felt so guilty. He however laughed about it. We laughed about it. He made sure I knew however, It wasn't to happen again.
I ended up working with my Dad for the same company for almost 15 years. I would smile when introduced as Dr. ___'s daughter. I had such pride for my Dad's work and his passions.
When I was four months pregnant with my Loyal Companion I was laid off from the company and asked to gather my belongings and leave the building at once. I was a mess. As I walked out of my boss's office my Dad was there, had come up to say hello; wanted to know if I wanted to grab lunch.
He saw my tears and patiently helped me find a box and loaded all of belongings for me. He slowly walked me out to my car. We said goodbye. He said he would call me. I was so thankful to have him by my side when I exited the building.
A few months later he called me -- he had found a job for me within the same company. He explained that the Director was pleased with my resume, she wanted to know if I could come for an interview. I was 7 months pregnant, I felt sure no one would hire me. I was hired back on with the same company and my Dad and I started to have lunch together again....
My Dad was always there to rescue his daughter. His devotion to me never wavered. Whether it was reading to me after a long day, coaching my softball team or driving me to the hospital; whether it was landing me my first job, supporting me through poor decisions at college or helping me to the car after being laid off, he hung on. However, his financial support of my cafeteria lunches will always be the linchpin.
Through this memory I now see that he has always wanted me to succeed, always wanted me to be happy. He is proud of the Me I am, not who I decide to be on any given day or the circumstances that get thrown in my way. He has always loved the true spirit of his daughter. The innocence of my being.
20 years later, now having children of my own, I can contest to the fact that this is a very hard feeling to hold on to. It slips through my grasp as my children age, get more attitude, perfect the eye roll and are repulsed by my hugs in the school drop off lane. I simply forget to remember their innocence; their baby-like features. Life is tough, it drags even the best of us down. My children deserve an unwavering advocate during these tough times. Thankfully I have my Dad to learn from.
Last night as I laid my Loyal Companion down to rest he randomly belted out a few of the lyrics to the baby song, Banana Phone. I was instantly transported back to a friendlier time, a time when I was constantly called on as a support, a time when my children looked to me for rescuing and I immediately remembered my Dad's cafeteria lunch number (I shouldn't give it out as he might not have changed it yet). My Dad easily supported me through these friendly times but what's even more stunning is that he didn't stop supporting me through the times that were not so friendly. He never wavered. Note taken.
