Daddy's princess

Isn't it funny how Mother's Day and Father's Day differ? Everyone seems to think that Mother's Day is about paying Mom back for all the hard work she does, almost a guilt trip as often she is doing more than her share for the whole family. But Dad's Day is a quieter affair; get him something that fits with a hobby or maybe a new tool and you're good. Chances are Dad doesn't want too much recognition anyway, right? I was lucky to have two parents who both contributed a lot, and now that my Dad isn't around anymore I am especially grateful for all those father-daughter moments we shared. Some of them were even on Father's Day!

I remember the year we got Dad new lawn chairs for Father's Day. We had breakfast in the back yard (Mom helped my brother and I make Pilsbury croissants, a delicacy back then!). It got so hot the butter and cheese started to melt in the sun before we were finished eating!

I was my Dad's little helper, always wanting to learn what tools were for or how things worked or why they didn't.

I really got the best of both worlds: Mom and I hung out shopping or gardening or talking about books, and Daddy and I hung out watching basketball games or fixing bikes or sharing popcorn at the movies. I think he called me his princess not because I liked to dress up but rather because he was proud of how well-rounded my interests were, and that made me a "real lady".

My Dad took me out for a meal often over the years; he loved good food. It wasn't always fancy - sometimes we went for "an executive lunch" at Costco (his little joke, because it was a place for business shoppers). We tried great corned beef sandwiches at the local kosher deli, and awesome fried eggs at breakfast diners that served mostly longshoreman and float plane pilots.

When I was a kid Daddy didn't cook much, but he was the one who got up early to make me a fried egg sandwich before 6 AM basketball practice. We would also share snacks - he loved to shell peanuts, and he could shell sunflower seeds in his mouth (something I could never master). Later on though, he became a pretty good cook and quite a foodie. We would meet at his place on Friday nights and cook exotic appetizers to try. He used to say " we solved the problems of the world" with the conversations we had on those evenings.

I miss my Dad a lot, and think of him every day. Every time I have a fried egg sandwich I think of him, and every time I try a new dish I think, "Daddy would have loved this!"

My Dad pushed me to be my best self, and to use my fears to learn how to get through tough times. His love of life and every moment in it is something I strive to duplicate every day. Just like the food on the plate, life is meant to be savoured.

Hug your Dad this week, or call him. He might be gruff about it, but I bet he will treat it as a special memory, and those are something you don't want to miss out on. Store up as many as you can; someday you'll need to use them to remember.

Photo: Contributed

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