When pondering my “grateful list” today, there was one thing (or, I should say, person) who popped to the top of the list. Who, might you ask? Why, my DAD of course! It’s Father’s Day, silly! (well, barely, but it still counts).
In performing the annual reflective exercise of why I am grateful for my dad, my newfound context of story-telling came almost immediately to mind. While it was my mother who instilled in me a profound respect for the written word, my father was the one who gave me some of my most vivid memories of the oral tradition. As children, my siblings and I would beg our dad to re-tell some of our favorite stories from his childhood. My dad’s stories always included plenty of gruesome-yet-hilarious mishaps such as the time his snowball downed a giant icicle only to have it smash him in the face – he got six stitches, if i remember correctly.
To us kids, my father’s childhood was a land of hilarity and adventure, and we longed to have lives as interesting as his so that we too could regale our children with stories someday. We never thought we could possibly have such fascinating stories to tell. I’m happy to say, however, that as a grown adult, I am quite busy living a life full of fodder for interesting stories.
So Dad, thanks for giving me a foundation to build my stories off of. Thanks for encouraging me to dream and imagine, for always believing in me, and for teaching me how to laugh at myself when all else fails. I love you Dad.
Happy Father’s Day!