Father's Day

I was contemplating what story I should tell about my Dad in light of Father's Day this coming Sunday. There are so many that come to mind. My Dad has always been like a steady solid rock to me. He is funny, smart and strong.

Once when we lived on a pond he built a bridge to cross to the other side where my Grandparents lived. Now of my Dad's talents engineering and building are not high on the list, so the building of this bridge was quite the project. When it was finally complete he worried that my sister and I could fall in and wondered what we would do if we did. So one day soon after the three of us walked down the bridge he knocked me in with his right hand and her in with his left hand. Of course we hooted and hollered and finally scrambled out of the murky water. I was much more upset about the possibility of swimming with snakes than of getting wet. But ultimately my Dad saw that we could both swim well and take care of ourselves. Then I guess he felt a little better about the bridge.

Not to long ago I was trying to teach my oldest to ride her bike. It was quite a grueling process, mainly because she was so scared of falling down. She had dressed herself in layers of long clothing, put knee and elbow pads on and strapped on her helmet to mitigate the perceived threat despite the sizzling temperatures. So finally in an attempt to quell her fears, when she was standing in the grass barely balancing with one foot down I reached over and nudged her over. She fell on the grass with the bike on top unhurt but a little shocked and yelled, "Hey Mom, Why'd you knock me over!?" Well like my Dad my ultimate goal is to know that she can take care of herself. But even more I want her to know that she can take care of herself. She rides now, probably in spite of me, but I do feel a little better. Hopefully she does too.