I teach a gratitude lesson to my students each year. I usually introduce it around the Holiday season, but I had too much fun teaching PE games in November and December this year. (My teaching partner and I created a new version of Quidditch and The Hunger Games). This last week, I sat my students down in Health Room #2 and pulled up the lecture slides to “The Power of Gratitude.” The closing assignment asks students to write a handwritten letter to someone in their life who has impacted and positively influenced them. I like to call this person ‘their trusted adult.’ I have also written a letter to someone in my life for seven years. This year will be my eighth letter. I told my students I am writing my letter to my Dad this year. I paused as I said this because I was slightly embarrassed that it’s taken me eight years to write a gratitude letter to my Dad. I have started writing the letter but have not finished it. (Maybe I should do that instead of writing this blog post). This gratitude letter to my Dad has proved to be challenging to write, and it’s not because of all the detailed reasons I am grateful for him but because I realized how much I fear losing him.
I have been a Daddy’s Girl for as long as I can remember. I am sure my Mom would confirm this. What does being a Daddy’s Girl mean? It is so much more than being a daughter to a Dad. I have watched my brother and his relationship with his oldest, Vivianne. I observe Kody and Marlow together. Marlow Girl loses her balance from excitement when Kody opens the front door, and her eyes follow him around the room until he gives her attention. The common factor I observe is that the daughter often looks to the Dad for acceptance, attention, and affirmation. I should clarify that us daughters need our Mom, too. We look to our Mom for safety and security. That’s a different Blog Post, though.
I didn’t realize that I sought out the three A’s from my Dad until I started drafting the gratitude letter. I remembered personal, detailed moments forever ingrained in my memory. I recalled the countless times in my teenage and early adult years when my Dad rescued me from heartbreak or opened up his home many times when I was temporarily homeless; however, some more recent memories sparked my gratitude letter.
It is customary for a man to ask the Father if he can marry his daughter. Kody asked my Dad. I am not even sure how that conversation went. Considering I am married, my Dad must have given his blessing. Additionally, it is common for the Dad to walk his daughter down the aisle during the wedding ceremony. What is the significance of this event? I looked it up. “Fathers walking their daughter down the aisle and giving their daughter, the bride, away represents a transfer of ownership from the father to her new husband.” It was interesting when family and friends found out Kody, and I went to the courthouse to get married and realized that we had no plans for a future ceremony or reception. Many individuals asked me about the absent act of my Father walking me down the aisle. My Dad and I had many conversations about Kody and I getting married and the lack of the traditional Father/Daughter walk and dance. What mattered to me was that my Dad trusts Kody and views him as genuine and honest. My Dad and I talked about what marriage symbolized. My point is that we talked about marriage, not a wedding, which made the conversations special. I could be wrong by assuming, but I don’t believe I screwed my Dad over by choosing not to have a wedding. Instead, I included him in my bundled emotions of marriage. I valued his opinions, advice, and approval of my marriage with Kody.
This past year, I became a parent. I hope to be half the parent that my Mom and Dad were for me. Over the past eight months of motherhood, there have been many tears of frustration and joy. It happens that in the times I have spent with my Dad since becoming a parent, Marlow was doing Marlow things; she caught her first cold while we were staying with my Dad in September, had a cold/flu when we met in Missoula for a Griz game, and was trying to cut some teeth during Christmas. My Dad coined Marlow with the nickname Nervous Nelly – the girl who never sits still. Marlow Girl is always up to something. She’s never been simple. Anyway, as usual, my Dad hugged me when we were parting ways after Christmas dinner. He said, “You are a good Mom. I am proud of you.” I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that from my Dad until after he said it.
I reflect, and my mind swirls with remembrances of significant and simple moments. I will cherish these flashes of memories that fill my heart with gratitude. I have realized that putting all my appreciation in one gratitude letter is impossible. Simply put, I am blessed to have memories and fortunate to continue making memories to treasure.
I thank all the devoted Dads out there. I thank you for your love, patience, and sacrifice. It can’t be an easy road to raise a daughter in today’s world, but eventually, we ladies grow up and realize the significance you had on our development and character.
This year, I am grateful that the lesson on the power of gratitude allowed me to reflect and recognize how blessed I am to have a Dad who always answers his phone, hugs me goodbye, and says I Love You at the end of each conversation.