My Father’s Daughter

My entire life I have been told that I am the spittin’ image of my pops.  After looking through some old photos with my mom yesterday, it is true.  But it wasn’t until I went away to college that I realized that we are more alike than I could have imagined.  I constantly catch myself speaking like my dad, doing “happy dances” like him, and even minor mannerisms of his pop up in my day-to-day life.

We also share the same strengths and weaknesses.  We are softies with big hearts, but when faced with science questions we struggle.  We are worry-warts who wonder if we locked all the doors before falling asleep.  And boy do we both love to sleep.  I blame him for my affection for napping after a big meal.  I also blame him for my allergies.  But for each thing I blame him for, it is another thing that we bond over.  Whether it be sinus headaches when the weather changes, or my affinity for scary movies, I got it my from poppa.


While we already share many attributes, I hope that number grows.  He gives me great advice and knows exactly how to calm my nerves.  He settles me down when I worry just a little too much, and he knows how to make me laugh.  He has the sweetest intonation when he knows I just need someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on.  I hope that when I become a parent, and even just as a friend and daughter and wife, I learn to have the same patience and genuine care for others.

I know you would go to the moon and back for me, Daddy, and I hope you know that I would do the same for you in a heartbeat.  Happy Father’s Day, Daddio!


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