If you want to know why I am the way I am, picture me and an older, manlier version of me printing the lyrics of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and belting them out at the top of our lungs for an entire afternoon.
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?
Ever since I was a little girl, my Dad was always the one making everyone laugh. And while his brand of humor might not go over well in all crowds, one thing is certain – he is unapologetically himself.
Dad didn’t want me to go away to theater school and become a starving artist. I think he’s only slightly more comfortable with me having gone away to writing school to become a mom who writes about motherhood, but I know he is proud of who I am – and he’ll be my biggest fan if I ever manage to publish a book.
He’s already my biggest fan. He just encourages me to dream bigger.
My Dad gives great advice and dotes on my family with his time and treasures. When my husband is away, he and my mom spend the majority of their time entertaining or feeding us. He has tinkered with our sound system to the point it seems like Peppa Pig lives in our living room, and he takes pride in decorating our yard with the finest specimens from his nursery. This is how he shows his love.
He shows us how to live, too. Watching him, I have learned to be bold in the pursuit of happiness and quick with a punch line. He taught me to tell it like it is, to stand up for what’s right, to tip generously and to love the same way.
My Dad doesn’t worry about what other people think of him – he’s too busy doing his own thing. And he does it well. He also really, really likes himself, as evidenced by his 7:34 a.m. text message to announce today as “a day to remember.”
Perhaps what he does best is love my kids, who call him “Pob” – an unconventional grandpa name for an unconventional man. We don’t spend enough one-on-one time together, but I always love it when we do. (Next time the Chicken Bhuna is on me.)
Happy Birthday, Dad. I can’t top Alan’s surprise visit from last year, but I hope the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix looks great from my couch.
At least it’ll sound like we’re there.