On Saturday morning, I got up and put my sheets in the washer.
This drove my dad crazy.
On Saturday mornings, my mother always washed the sheets. A couple of years ago, they bought new bedroom furniture – including a new ginormous mattress – and it was difficult for her to lift it alone. So she began washing the sheets every Saturday and my dad would make the bed for her. Mom didn’t care when the sheets got washed on Saturday, just as long as they were done by the end of the day so that dad would be home to help her out. But if my dad was in charge, the sheets got washed as soon as he came downstairs in the morning. After the thirty minute cycle, they were put immediately into the dryer and then right back onto the bed. All of this was usually done before 10 am.
This Saturday morning, I messed up the routine. Good thing I’m cute.
This is one of the things people often find the most humorous about my dad. He loves his routine. And sticks to it. Living in China, my dad called me every week day at 7:30 pm for us/6:30 am for him. He had gotten to his desk, checked his email, and then picked up the phone to call me. He leaves the house at the same time every day. He comes home at the same time every day. He runs two miles on the track across the street after getting home.
You want to know my favorite part of the routine? Hearing Selah say “Papa!” when he comes home. When he takes my girls to the playground after he runs. Eating dinner together. Watching Dad play a game with Macy just about every night.
It does my heart good to know that my girls have such a close relationship with their grandfather.
Just a couple of things I love about my dad –
His enthusiasm. It’s contagious. He gets excited about life – going to the baseball game, planning out vacations, opening gifts and cards.
His encouragement. My entire childhood my dad always told me I was smart, beautiful, and amazing. It’s exactly what every girl needs to hear growing up. Every accomplishment was celebrated. When I felt like I didn’t do well enough, he told me he was proud of me for trying. He never, ever made me feel bad about myself.
His priorities. Never have I felt that work took priority over my mom, me, or my family. He made it to every performance, every awards ceremony, every recital. When he traveled, he called constantly. He always sought out an earlier flight to come home. I knew that when he was gone, his heart was still with us.
His love. For my mother. For me. He told her over and over again how much he loved her. He told other people how much he loved her. It showed in the way his face lit up when he talked about her. He tells me every day – multiple times – that he loves me. And he tells my girls the same thing.
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I love you.
Celebrating the weekend at an Astros game…and we caught a ball!!