Day 36: My Dad

My Dad at 26 - Shockingly hard to find a casual picture of him with a shirt on during this era.

When I was 22 my Dad made me get a new car.  Correction - a new to me car. Up until that point I was driving an old black Chevrolet Corsica that my parents had purchased for me with the agreement that I would use it to drive my younger brothers wherever they needed to go, and myself to a job at Tiny's Dairy Barn. 

I really liked that car, and couldn't understand why my Dad suddenly thought I needed to buy a new car with my own money that cost more than twice as much as my beloved Corsica had.  It was swiftly replaced by a Honda Accord that was a pretty nice consolation prize, and that I kept until the day I watched it drive away down my in-laws driveway.  It's a pretty weepy story you can read HERE.  Have tissues handy.

After I got married I spent many of our beginning years complaining about our car.  About how the Corsica had never run out of air in the tires.  The Corsica never had engine trouble.  The Corsica never leaked oil. 

It turns out The Corsica did all those things and I just didn't know it.  What I failed to remember is that The Corsica stranded me a number of times before cell phones were a thing that people carried around in their purse - one of which was (luckily) in front of a payphone on the toll road in the middle of the day when my dad had to leave work to come rescue me.  Allegedly, the Corisca had an entire engine replaced.  Allegedly, The Corsica wasn't awesome at all.

My Dad was.

Today is my Dad's 60th birthday and I hope as I write this he is being showered with lovely cards written by the people he has touched over the years. 

Today I am thankful for my Dad.

The reason my car seemed so perfect is because my Dad took such good care of it without me even realizing it.  The reason I had an safe and loving childhood is because he, along with my Mother, created that. The reason I could call him for help in the middle of the day when I was stranded on the side of the road next to a random payphone on the interstate was because he had written down every single one of the possible phone numbers where he could be reached onto a piece of paper and had stuck it in my wallet. 
He is the reason I can change my own oil and dribble a basketball between my legs.  The reason I love movies and rollerskating.

I think if everyone was lucky enough to have parents as lovely as mine, then there would be a lot more love in the world.