To the man who danced his way through raising three daughters::
Any time someone’s asked you if you wished you had a son you always reply, “why? My girls can do anything boys can…”
It’s possible a boy would have remembered to use all 4 gears. It’s possible a boy would have known what a levy, whiskey and rye was without having to ask. It’s likely that a boy wouldn’t have stuck his nose through the chain link fence at his first t-ball game and asked, “which one’s third?!” And, it’s possible, you wouldn’t have had to ask potential girlfriends, “have you ever been arrested?”
You never taught me to change my oil or change a flat tire because, “just call me, I’ll come do it.”
You will always be my number one man.
You accompanied me to father daughter camp. Sang made up songs with me on road trips. Taught me how to lay brick work, jack and jill style. Introduced me to the Smokey Mountains and the Simple Way. Downloaded six anti-spyware programs onto my computer. You’ve been running partner, rafting guide, prom dress guru, moving company, advice giver, silent strength, and dream supporter… for these things I am thankful.
Even though 2/3 of your daughters will have actively chosen to live in tents after this next year I don’t think you should take it personally*.
On this day, and every day. I am thankful for you.
I am becoming the woman I am because of you.
Thank you for being a dad that stuck around. Thank you for being a dad that provided. Thank you for teaching, and learning alongside us. Thank you for challenging us, for expecting greatness. Thank you for showing grace when we needed. Thank you for loving my mom. Thank you for not allowing us to settle.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been faced with the reality that the above list isn’t law. All fathers don’t hold themselves to the standard you grace effortlessly. There are so many you've been faithful to our family, so many things I could be grateful for.
But perhaps, the greatest is this…
I am blessed to have studied The Word with you, in Costa Rica. It’s what got you out of bed early mornings after a hard day's work. I’ve seen it wreck you and challenge you. I’ve heard you pray and expect God to move. I’ve seen you weep for “oh my gosh” and dream of a simpler life. You selflessly shared this love of yours with me, with all of your Cashin girls… and for that, we are better women. It was these trips that captured my heart into missions, this country that inspired in me something greater.
Today, and every day…
I love you dad.
*plus I think it’s pretty safe to say val gal won’t be living in anything with a mosquito net in this lifetime…
