My father tells the worst jokes. Oh, and he has never met a pun he didn’t like. He also wears dark socks with cut-offs, is prone to reading the rules of board games, and thinks that Berger cookies are a legitimate food group. My dad is, in short, a bit of a disaster.
I am only telling you all this as full disclosure though. I’m about to get all kinds of sappy about him now. It would be a disservice to my dad if I didn’t throw the glaring in with the glowing. To really appreciate the true measure of the man, you have to see him from all sides, right? Well, the truth is that being my father’s daughter means that I know I was born under a lucky moon.
Check out my ironclad arguments.
Exhibit A: He sends packages like this one every week to my kids.
Exhibit B: He foots the bill for a family vacation every year.
Exhibit C: He bought himself a little shore house so we can keep making the family memories.
My dad also remembers every name, child, and birthday of nearly everyone he has ever met. He sends birthday cards, remembers to make the check-in phone calls I always forget to make, and extends the small gestures that distinguish the truly benevolent from the merely nice. I know my dad is a kind, generous, and considerate person. But being close to someone sometimes makes them hard to see. Sometimes, like actual moons, you can only truly see a person in reflected light.
Last summer, my family received an invitation to an award ceremony for my dad.
Despite the fact that I would be driving four hours round trip in one day to be there, the only thing I regret is that I didn’t drag the rest of my crew along with me. If and when you get the opportunity to hear people speak about someone you love, run, don’t walk there, and grab a front row seat.
My father’s day job is a Circuit Court judge. It’s a career that appeals to his innate sense of justice, rewards his sharp mind, and jives nicely with his natural proclivity towards reading all the rulebooks. He might be a pain in the ass to play Monopoly with, but he is a damn fine justice. This night and this award, however, was honoring some of the work he was doing on the side.
It turns out that my father isn’t just committed to my family but to the very concept of family itself. He doesn’t just love and protect his own children but commits himself to the safety and protection of all young people. In addition to his day job, my father was instrumental in bringing mediation into family law in our town. Broken families were given an instrument for putting the pieces back together and that had everything to do with my dad. That reflected light was looking pretty bright.
But there was more. Under his leadership, Family Services created a Pro Se clinic where families were empowered to create their own agreements. He also created a court roster of mediators who could be called on to help settle disputes through mediation. I was practically basking in his glow and this was just from reading the program.
Then his friends, colleagues, and some of the beneficiaries of his good work started talking. Of all the things we might wish for in our life, to be spoken of fondly by our friends should be at the top of that list. I wasn’t surprised by their sentiments so much as touched deeply by them. They knew my father in a different and profound way. But more beautiful and instructive than the words they used were the way they spoke them.
With joy. With warmth. With light.
And so the night continued with its special glow. My brother, my mother, and I were so touched by the well-wishers who waited for the chance to tell all of us just how important his work had been in their lives. People from all stages of my father’s career came out to honor the role he had played in their lives and in their careers.
Now, several months later, I still hold the memory of that night close. I love my funny, sweet, generous dad just the way I have always known him, black socks and all. But I cherish seeing him, even for one night, the way others see him, as a man of honor, character, and wisdom. It’s just another way I truly know I was born under that lucky moon.
-Erin
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Beautiful, just beautiful.
Oh I love this! Sound like your dad gets an extra high five for Fathers Day!
Carrie, the Just Mildly Medicated gal
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I’ll send that along, Carrie! Erin
Great post. I don’t wear dark socks but I’m like your dad in every other way.
Tell him Happy Dad Day from me. He sounds like a fantastic dude.
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Lance, I 100% believe you when you say that. Your girls are lucky to have you! Erin
I truly enjoyed reading this post, Erin. Great job indeed. And I also enjoyed the pictures that truly relayed what an excellent father you have.
Thanks, Frank. I had a hard time writing it without pictures. ; ) Erin
Love this!! Dad’s are special! I love that your dad works for families… Dads are so important in a family unit!!
Thanks, Mary. I have been waiting for the right time to share this story. I could probably write about my dad every other day. ; ) Erin
Beautiful man! And gorgeous tribute from a wonderful daughter. Your family is amazing, Erin. xoxo
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