Lucky Colour Green
To begin, a list of things my dad has instilled in me to love:
- taking risks
- lacrosse games
- candy apples
- loud music
- having a favourite shirt and wearing it every day, usually a striped one
- hiking
- empathy
- naps on the couch
- being silly
- the Red Hot Chilli Peppers
- stove-made popcorn is way better than microwave
- sitting in the car for a bit before going inside can be therapeutic
- writing
- celebrating even when there is nothing to celebrate in particular (this might look like getting ice cream and then slurpies on a random weekday after second grade).
(this list is incomplete and rests among plenty of other things that are probably so embedded in me I don't even realize they were his first).
My dad was (sorry mom) my first favourite person I think. Playing the Little Mermaid game in the bathtub while he pretended to be King Triton must have sold me.
Everyone says that my dad and I are the same person- witty, talkative, knows everyone wherever we go. It's probably because (despite my initial denial of the similarities) the person I have always wanted to be most like was my dad. I watched him consistently be to others a mentor, a helping hand, someone you could rely on, and I decided that he naturally has all of the best qualities anyone could ever want.
In addition, the main attribute I love about my dad is his ability to be weak, too. A bit raw and emotional- the strong face doesn't cloud out the being human. I didn't realize how sentimental and resilient my dad really was until the morning before I moved to Paris. That morning we were walking my dog together before driving to the airport when he gave me a ring, a silver embellished band that has a black square with an "S" engraved in the middle. It looks sort of like the Superman "S" I wold draw with the 6 connecting lines on my notebook in grade 5. I had never seen it before, but I could tell that it was special. I don't think he knows this, but I took that ring with me in every bag I carried around in Paris. It was my personal lucky charm.
Those first couple of months in Paris were tough, navigating being truly alone for the first time. But I knew that having my dad's ring near me would be credible for any small amount of luck that day. I knew that I would always make the right decisions with it close to me, just like how he always knows what the right thing to do is. I think the kids who would call him Sean the Leprechaun in elementary school had a point- he does have a way of finding the gold at the end of the rainbow, in the form of small victories and humble successes.
In many ways, as I get to know my dad more as an adult, I ache thinking about the gut-wrenching experiences he has faced, a lack of opportunities and recognition. I want to stick up for him just like he has stuck up for me these past 21 years. (although when I was in 5th grade his principal/boss said some extremely mean and untrue things about him and I did draw her being eaten by an alligator in several different ways- so maybe I have always instinctively stuck up for him just not effectively).
Not a week goes by where I don't tell someone that my dad could have been a professional hockey player, that his IQ is higher than Einstein's, that he is a ski patrol or he founded his own landscaping company.
But beneath all these titles, he is MY dad, and ring or not, I sure did get freakin lucky with that one.
I can't wait to read your book someday.
54 candles and wishes to you dad, love you!
I love you Avery. Have the best day.💛 You are the original Dream Fairy, and I’ve been under your pixie dust spell since the moment you were conceived. I’ll be reading this over, and over again. Thank you for the “card.”
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it :))
DeleteHappy birthday to your dad Avery.
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