They say the most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. My father? He loves his wife to death - sometime even more than his children, I feel! The first man in my life, he shall always remain so. He has been my harshest critique, compelling me to do better or look further beyond. He has also been my greatest comfort, healing those skinned knees and broken hearts of my childhood. He has told me stories and fairy-tales when sleep eluded me. He has held me tight in his arms when those nightmares haunted me. Today, in the 28th year of my life, he still tells me comforting stories to make me sleep and still holds me tight when the nightmares of life terrify me.
Papa has been my Santa Claus, bringing me whatever I desired whenever I did (and even when I did not!). He has been my Easter Bunny, surprising me with things I'd only dreamt of but never asked for. He has been my co-conspirator whenever we ganged up against Mummy or my brother. He has also been my 'agony uncle' when I lamented about that guy who I had a crush on, or the one who had a crush on me. Then, he has been my panacea when growing pangs ravaged me, and still do. He is, I'm proud to state, the best cure for my crankiness and torment on those difficult days of the month!
Most of all the other wonderful things in life come by twos and threes or by dozens and hundreds. There will always be plenty of flowers, stars, sunsets, dewdrops, rainbows, brothers, sisters, friends. But there is only one father in the whole world. My father is someone I never have to seek - he is always there when I want him, and always a step behind me when I need to be left alone. No gift to him can ever equal his gift to me - life!
Happy birthday, Papa.
A little girl needs her Papa
For many, many things:
Like holding her high off the ground
Where the sunlight sings!
Like being the deep music
That tells her all is right
When she awakens frantic with
The terrors of the night.
Like being the great mountain
That rises in her heart
And shows her how she might get home
When all else falls apart.
Like giving her the love
That is her sea and air,
So diving deep or soaring high
She'll always find him there.
No comments:
Post a Comment