To Dad

I remember my college graduation day well  (not a bad thing, considering it was only three years ago, huh? ).  My 83-year-old great aunt was in attendance.  She didn’t make it to my high school graduation, but she was there for this one and later told me on the phone how proud she was of me.  I went to lunch afterwards with my mom and a few good friends, so I got to spend time with her.  My aunt had a knee replacement surgery several weeks prior, and when her new knee wasn’t bending like should, she had to have it manipulated the day before, causing her to miss it.  These wonderful people in my life who have all had a great hand in raising me, shaping me, and making me the person I am today all have one thing in common concerning my graduation ceremony: I never saw any of them there.

The graduation was held in our civic center, and I marched right past the section my mom and I were sitting in, totally missing them.  I gave them permission in advance to leave after my name was called, because who needs additional punishment?

I also remember after the ceremony, as I was on my way either to or from the alumni house to pick up my diploma, my best friend called me.  The purpose of his call?  Congratulatory?  Try again.  He wanted to know if I had someone’s number.  After we talked until he was ready to wrap up the conversation, I added at the end, “by the way–I graduated.”  LOL.  He missed the graduation due to work, and it totally slipped his mind it was that morning.   We both laughed at that.

By now, you may be wondering why I titled this post, “To Dad.”

In thinking about Father’s Day, moments like my dad taking me fishing and letting me drive his boat as a kid come to mind.  I even have him to thank for my first experience with independent wrestling at Tubman Middle School in Augusta, GA.  And I always enjoy our trips to Massachusetts to spend time with him as we visit his side of the family (man, I bet that place is nuts right about now… so glad his team won the ‘Cup).

As for that graduation day, a day in which I hadn’t seen any other relative in attendance, as I returned to my seat from walking across the stage, I looked up from the floor.  To my right, in the upper level, sitting towards the top of the civic center, there was my dad.  He was still cheering for me and waving at me long after the professor on stage had called my name.  He just saw his son graduate.

Dad, I thank you for being there on that day.  A Saturday at that, when it’s especially difficult for a sales manager to get away from his store.  Thank you for taking the day to come and cheer me on.

Over the years, I’ve come to find your congratulatory gestures very welcoming.  Even in the things I think are small accomplishments, you’re there to extend your hand.  You’ve also been there on a number of occasions to support my causes.  Thank you for that.

You continue to make an impression on my life.  I appreciate the way you do that.

I love you, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day!