Sunday, June 19, 2011
(a view from the porch of my Dad's house in Greece)
Because of my dad, I witnessed very early in life that painting is a perfectly fine thing to do with your time.
Because of my dad, I learned that how you spent your day, in spite it's struggles, was simply the path to get you home with your family under one roof, together each night.
Because of my dad, I didn't even know until I was twenty or so that there are places that will change your car's oil for you.
Because of my dad, I learned that olive oil, fresh tomatoes, salt and crusty bread can be enjoyed at 7am as easily as 11pm (and most especially if its past your bedtime and you're invited out of bed to the late night kitchen table in your nightgown to "have a few dunks with bread").
Because of my dad, I may have anywhere between 3 to 6 gallons of the purest, greenest, most beautiful olive oil from his trees in Greece in my home, at any given time.
Because of my dad, I learned to never take a photograph of people enjoying a meal after the meal is over and there is nothing but empty plates on the table. (What the bleep is the point after the food is gone? People might think you don't have any food.)
Because of my dad, I don't get scared when people yell.
Because of my dad, I welcome being told that I am doing anything the wrong way.
Because my dad, I learned that watermelon is best kept cold while camping if you're able to get that good spot towards the back of the campground with the stream, so that you can wedge the melon between a few rocks and let the cold rushing water do the rest.
Because of my dad, I've never bought a house that wasn't situated up on a bit of a hill and well above the road level (this has saved me and my family more than once).
Because of my dad, I know that I could have bought any of those houses for less, if I'd just held out a little longer after the 4th counter offer (but I couldn't stand it).
Because of my dad, I know that after you cut the fourth leg off of a frog it can no longer hear, as evidenced by it staying still when you tell it to jump (sorry, really, really bad family joke).
Because of my dad, I knew that dating a boy should commence somewhere around 35.
Because of my dad, I knew I was entirely loved even when I brought home a boy at 18, and then his baby at 19.
Because of my dad, I learned that unconditional love is the most difficult, most worthwhile thing you do in this life.
Because of my dad, I've had the joy of drifting into a late afternoon nap (on that porch shown above), blown by a gentle breeze sweeping down a mountain side, and sung to sleep by the rolling, chiming sound of sheep's bells in the distance.
Because of my dad, I learned to embellish my storytelling with anything necessary to make it all a little more humorous or enjoyable, and to be sure that no one is ever laughing harder at the story than me.
Because of my dad, I learned the harder you try not to bring something up in conversation the longer it takes you stop making (and remaking) your point once you do (dad, are you paying attention?)
Because of my dad, I know my single most important accomplishment was finding a man that would love, provide and care for me and our children, in every adventure life brings. Even if it was that 18 year old kid that I brought home about 20 years too early for my dad's liking.
Happy Father's Day to the both of them! Wishing all of you dad and dad-figures every happiness today!