HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday dear Dad

Happy Birthday to you!!!!!!

Just thought I would post a little something for my Dad who's out in California and who's birthday it is today. And of course, I couldn't part with tradition and manage to get his gift out there in time. But then, if it had managed to make it there by today, both of my parents would probably have sent the local Sheriff out here to see who's absconded with their daughter and replaced her with someone who can actually manage to get birthday gifts sent by the time the
birthday actually hits.

The photo above was taken on my wedding day in October of 2003. My dad was an incredibly calming influence over me that day because I was not only a jumble of nerves but had to walk down a very steep boat ramp in order to get onto the boat that Gareth and I were getting married on. While we'd had a rehersal the night before, and new non-slip stuff had been placed on the ramp, I was still worried I was going to slip and fall. Not only that, if I did happen to slip and fall, it would most probably have been off the ramp altogether and into Lake Arrowhead. Not exactly a Kodak Moment!

My Dad reassured me the entire way down that he had me and I wasn't going to slip. And ya know what? I didn't.

My Dad has been there like that for me my entire life. And believe me when I say, there were probably times when he probably would have liked to let me slip and fall a few times, but it never happened. I was not the easiest child to raise. I had an incrediblly horrid attitude at times when I was younger (some of which has sadly stayed with me into my adult years), had a huge chip on my shoulder for whatever reason, and was a spoiled rotten brat. We didn't always have an easy time of things, especially during my teenage years. While I wasn't a truly awful child - I didn't use drugs, didn't drink, wasn't a juvenille delinquent, I'm sure I compensated in other ways.

One particular moment stands out in my mind....a certain trip to Disneyland I took with a friend, assuring my parents that we had a ride home - when in fact, we did not. I just wanted to go to
Disneyland and I'd bought my ticket without making sure I had transportation to and from Disneyland. We managed to get down there, and at 1am in the morning, I had to admit to the friend I was with that it didn't look like we had a ride back. So my friend called her Mom (my friend happened to live in some condo's directly behind our house) and I just expected to see her Mom come and get us about an hour later.

Much to my surprise we saw a huge 4x4 pickup barreling towards us in the Disneyland parking lot. It looked alarmingly like my Dad's truck, and strangely enough, it even looked like my Dad was driving. It was then that I realized I had two choices....Run for my life, or stay put and be in fear for my life.

As it turns out, my friend's mother was in the passenger seat and it was my Dad driving... and I pretty much knew I was as good as dead where I stood. Besides, running for my life was not an option as I had lost all ability to function at that point. I am still kinda pissed at my friend's Mom though...she didn't have to go get my Dad! *lol*

I was 13 or 14 at the time and I recall being without telephone privaledges for a very long time, plus I was grounded for what seemed like a year. And now, looking back, if my almost 16 year old daughter Meg pulled a stunt like that, she'd find herself singing hymns at a Swiss convent and wearing black for the rest of her natural life.

The really amazing thing about my Dad is that while he may not be my biological father, he is my Dad! He raised me no differently than he would a genetic child of his own, and never saw a dime of support from the man who contributed to my genetic make-up.

But it's not all about genes. My Dad has been there since I was 3 or 4. My Dad took an active interest in my life, was interested in my hobbies and encouraged me to pursue them, made sure - when I started showing an interest in wearing make-up, that he took me to a professional make-up counter and had them show me how to apply it in ways that were appropriate for a young lady so that I didn't end up looking like a hooker, worked hard to make sure we had the things we needed and more often than not, the things we wanted, he never made the faces or comments like my Mom would make when I showed more interest in listening to Judas Priest and Ozzy Ozbourne over John Denver or Tanya Tucker. But it was more than that. My Dad demanded respect and that we not only show it to him, but to one another.

In short, I don't think I'd be the person I am today without the guidance of my Dad. I think I turned out pretty well if I do say so myself.

And while we are not the most demonstrative or affectionate family in the world, Dad, I hope you know I respect and love ya!

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!