07 June 2017

For Buff



Happy Father's Day, Daddy! 

           When I was a little girl, I used to have long, blonde hair.  After washing it, I would go to my parent's room to find Dad waiting there with a brush in hand to smooth my curly locks. He never tired of it and always made sure I kept my hair long. 

           Fast-forward to elementary school: Dad was my basketball coach for our competition team. I was proud to show my friends how much he knew. I wanted to show him off. I was proud of him. I still remember some valuable lessons he taught, one of which is; "BEEF"- Balance, Eyes on Eyelet, Elbow Extension, and Follow Through.   

         As I started pursuing ballet and dance, Dad was always my biggest fan. He was always ready to have me perform for anyone and everyone. I remember dancing on our front lawn once, per his request of course, in front of the whole family.  He was always ready to come sit behind a camera for hours to capture moments that were surely dull and boring to him, but  he never showed it or complained. 

         As boys started entering the picture- Dad seemed cool and collected. He probably knew that the boys in my life were intimidated by him, and he no doubt took pride in that. He was a good Dad and always made the rules clear. I remember watching a movie downstairs with a boy I was sure to be in love with. Unannounced, Dad came waltzing into the family room and plopped down in the lazy boy. He didn't say a word, he just sat..and sat......and sat. We watched the entire movie that way. Me, my love interest, and Dad. I look back on that memory now and love it. I know Dad was doing his fatherly duty by protecting me, even when I didn't know I needed protecting. 

         Throughout my many adventures, Dad has always been supportive-even if it takes him a nudge and push to get there. Even if it's not what he would have chosen for me. When I decided to go work in Disney World, Dad was hesitant about it and thought it could be foolish to leave the good job I was at for something completely unknown and crazy. I knew I wanted to go, and once Dad saw that my mind was made up-he jumped on board completely. So much so that him and Mom even came out to visit me while I was there. They fed me, bought me groceries, and left my heart full.

         Dad makes friends easily. People naturally like him. He's easy to like. People who worked with him always tell me how much they respect him. His friends always say how much fun he is to be around. Once, while out to dinner in Disney Land, Mom and I went off to a nearby ride while Dad was content to wait for the dinner reservation to be ready. Mom and I came back to find Dad chatting with a young couple who were also waiting for dinner. I briefly met them before we were seated and didn't think anything else about it. After we were done eating, waiting for our check, Dad told our waiter to send that couple a dessert on him. The young couple were not only grateful, but so happy from Dad's surprise. They were beaming. They came over and thanked Dad for his generosity and we never saw them again. But I'll never forget that night. I again was proud of my Dad. Proud for the world to see his heart. Proud of the love he shared with complete strangers. He was mine. 

       Speaking of making friends easily, Dad makes friends with our Mailman. Who makes friends with the Mailman?? My Dad does. During the Holiday season, Dad gifts them either a turkey or ham, whichever they choose. Last year, Dad wanted to give it to the Mailman before Thanksgiving so he could enjoy it with his family. We realized that our mail had already been delivered, which meant we missed him and passed up the opportunity to give him the ham! Oh well... too bad, so sad.. more ham for us, right?! Wrong. We spent half an hour driving around the neighborhood stalking our poor Mailman. Just as we were about to give up, we spotted him! We drove up right next to him and Dad reached out to give him his Holiday ham. There it was again- the light in his eyes, the smile on his face,the love. All of this, from my Dad.

        Dad forgives. He has been wronged in many ways throughout his life, but he goes on. I know this fact on a personal level.  I spit fiery darts when I get upset and heated in the moment. Those fiery darts often lead to hurt feelings, but Dad forgives me. He chooses to love. 

       The list could go on for chapters at a time. For now, I hope the eyes that read this can get a small glimpse of the man my Father is. He is Buff, yes. A very appropriate nickname. Although he has muscles, I do not mean he is Buff as in strong.  He is that, yes. But he is Buff because he chooses to be all the things I described above and more. He has a Buff mind, a Buff spirit, and most importantly a Buff heart. 





 He is Buff, and he is mine....

and I love him.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy! 
Love, Tor


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