My favorite thing was when he called me his princess. If he even dared to call my sister that I would scream, "NO, I am your princess, she can be you angel!" Oh my, yes, I was spirited. I was also an only child until the age of eight. It isn't a good idea to wait that long until your second, it slightly ruins the older child. HA HA
My daddy loves sports and racing. He spent most of his time home unwinding in front of the t.v. If I was patient the game or race would be off and he would be mine. I loved the times he would play with the race track with me. I loved making the cars spin around and around and he was never angry when I went to fast and made the car come off of the tracks. I had the hardest time keeping that car on that track.
For Christmas one year he refurbished this go-cart for me. It had a car shell. He painted it white and pink. I will try to post a photo of it below. I loved that car. I will always remember the days of riding up and down Kingsfield road in that car with my daddy. He even bought me little pink riding gloves and a helmet. The back of the car said "tickled pink". I felt so adored.
My father was always fast to listen and I never felt judged. I loved when I had his ear and I could talk to just him.
I know he wanted a son, but he did the best he could with us girls. He may have been in a house of women, but I like to think in some ways he felt blessed it turned out that way.
One birthday I had a surprise party. My father took me on a jungle expedition while my mother set up my party. I remember getting tired and my feet hurt after a while. I was thirsty and hot. My birthday is in July and we lived in Florida. He whisked me up on his shoulders and pretended he was seeing red-butt baboons in the trees and other creatures in order to make me laugh. This passed the time and we finally made it back to the car. He then took me to a place called "Popcorn Prescription". It was the only time I ever went and I have craved it at different times in my life. I picked out some flavors. I remember this cinnamon one.
I was so content that day. As we pulled into the drive and my party unfolded I quickly forgot what that day meant. But in the years after I have remembered. I grow fonder of it every time I think on it. I may have romanticized that day, but who cares? We women often do that.
I love my father. I love his quick wit and the silly ways he acts. I love the precious moments he was all mine and I had his ear. I love to hear him laugh. I still love to watch him eat. That started as a girl, I would sit and watch him eat. He eats pretty. Most people are gross to watch when they eat. I like the way he eats. Hee hee...
He always tells me I am his girl. He has always found a way to tell me sorry if he hurt my heart. He always told me I was special and that no man would be good enough for me. He always told me to wait for a man like Matthew.
I love you, Daddy, because you learned to be the best father you knew to be. You were so young and I was so not in your plans. I know my birth ended your childhood and you were forced to grow-up. I love you for it. I love you for those moments you were all mine. Thankyou for all the hugs and times you listened to me when I felt hopeless in the world. I thankyou for always making me feel superior in a way that made me expect the best out of my future husband. I thankyou for being my friend above all.
Every little girl falls in love with her father...the first man in her life...for old times sake won't you be mine? :) My little girl heart may appear far away, but it is there and it still loves that daddy who took her for a walk in that magical forrest one hot July day and showed her where the red-butt baboons lived. Who knew they lived in the trees in florida behind the University mall. ;) Atleast you knew how to find them. I still swear I saw a glimpse of one that day.
I love you with all of my heart.