Mine is Joe Wolfe. It would be impossible to sum him up in a blog post, so I won't try. I've never heard anyone else talk about his or her father and thought, "Hey, that sounds like my dad!" If you've met him, you know what I mean. It's easy and tempting to paint my dad as a caricature, and I have done this and still do it a lot. All my friends love to hear stories about my dad. My rogue, towboat captain dad, lover of figs and pecans, freestyle hunter, obsessive music downloader, wearer of jean cut-off shorts, advocate of concealed weapons, chewer of ABC gum, passionate teeth-brusher, selective law-abider who is always up for arm-wrestling and will probably beat you no matter how much younger you are than him.
But he's not a caricature. He's human, and he's a great father. He isn't great just because he came to every dance recital and every choir concert without complaining, when those were clearly not his things. He's great because he would pick me up and carry me to bed when I was little, even when he must have known that I had only pretended to fall asleep in front of the tv just so he would pick me up and carry me to bed. He's great because when I would cry the night before he had to leave to go back on the boat for a few weeks, he would say, "Now don't you cry or you're gonna make me cry too." (Honestly, you probably can't picture him saying this, but I can.) He's great because he never once thought it was worth much to try to keep up with the Joneses (I don't either, because of him). He's great because even though his formal education ended with a GED, I am positive he's smarter than me and my brothers combined, with our 6 college degrees. He's great because he's unwavering about being Joe Wolfe. He's incapable of being anything but Joe Wolfe.
He's great because he fathered my brothers, one of which has turned into a really great father himself, and the other whom I have no doubt will be a truly wonderful father one day.
I always think, on this day, of my many good friends who lost their fathers at young ages. (Seriously, it's really bizarre how many friends I have whose fathers have passed.) I celebrate these men, even though I never got a chance to meet them. And I mourn with my friends who have recently lost their fathers and who undoubtedly had a very tough day today.
I love my daddy and I'm so lucky to have him!
6.21.2009
Who's Your Daddy?
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10 comments:
your post just brought tears to my eyes. mainly because i'm really bummed your dad doesn't wear that blue headband anymore.
Beautiful post, Laura. It is overshadowed, only slightly, by the awesomeness of the headband. You rock, Uncle Joe.
Hmmm... What Nick and I used to hear from Dad on those nights before he left for the boat was quite different: "I don't want to get any bad reports from your mother."
im teary....
Laura, this is a very special tribute to your daddy. What a special relationship you have and always will. Just think of all the wonderful memories that are now being made for his grandchildren, too! Loved your comments. AJ
The word came to me today to describe Dad: rapscallion.
Brought tears to my eyes. Love the picture.....Daddy's little girl. Sweet to be the only girl.
I, too, had a little tearing up going on while reading this, Laura. Such an awesome post-Happy Father's Day, Uncle Joe!
As a card-carrying member of the Dad-Died-Young Club, I'm glad to see you have such appreciation for that which I have just a scattering of memories. That sentence is clumsy, but you get the idea. It's late. What a wonderful ode to your dad. Really, Laura, if this nursing thing falls through, you should work for Hallmark.
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