My dad

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It was Father's Day in the US, which was yesterday now, but barely, and I couldn't go without talking about my dad a little bit. My dad isn't and wasn't perfect, but he was overall a good dad. He did his best to break cycles. He had parents who loved him but never showed it, and he had parents who expected things of him (like babysitting and taking care of them and the rest of his family), and he never had any expectations of us, and he made sure to tell us he loved us every single day. There was never a doubt in my mind that my dad loved me. Being a parent is difficult, and no one ever really gets it completely right, but he tried. My dad was almost always patient with us. He taught me how to cook and let us "help" him when he was building things; this usually consisted of us holding stuff and occasionally swinging a hammer. My dad didn't know how to read, so he relied on me to help him read recipes in cookbooks. He helped me in that single act more than I sometimes think I helped him. I struggled with reading at first, despite my desire to read. He never gave up on me. The second I started reading a little, he got out the cookbook, and I helped him read some of the smaller words, and eventually I was reading recipes for him. I was helping him, but he had the patience to allow me to learn as I sounded out the words in those books. My dad used to tell us stories too. He couldn't read us a bedtime story, but he loved making up funny stories and telling them to us. My dad was the one who I ran to whenever I got hurt. He would fix boo-boos and bee stings, and he would rock me when I was sick. He even used to joke when I'd ask him to rock me, "well, go find me some rocks," or if I told him I was bored, his instant response was "well, go get me nails and a hammer". He used to tickle us and tell us the "spider" was going to get us; it was just his hand that he shaped into a spider form. He loved hearing us giggle. As we got older, I know my dad struggled because being a dad was something everyone said he wanted, and I think he felt like everything was falling away from him. My mom left him (rightfully so, because while he was a good dad, he wasn't always the best husband; the two are not mutually exclusive), and my brother and I moved with her, and we got older, and it wasn't the same for him. His whole purpose for the past 15 years (my brother was 15 and I was 12) was being a dad, and suddenly we weren't there anymore. My brother was hanging out with his friends, and I wasn't there anymore. I don't think he knew what to do with that, and there were times he said some hurtful things to us, but I don't think he meant them. Now he is back to being grateful to have us and enjoying spending time with his grandchildren, who are also growing up. My dad has never stopped being there for me, and I try hard to be there for him when I can. He loves being a dad and grandfather. We have been his greatest joy. My dad isn't good with showing any sort of vulnerability, but I know in his actions when he's grateful. I always think about the brother I found out I had very recently, and how he basically made it clear he wants nothing to do with any of us, and I think about what he is missing out on, but that's a choice he has made. My dad isn't perfect, but he's there. I was always my dad's favorite growing up. He loved both my brother and me equally, but I was closer to him, and I still am. My brother does things for my dad, but I actually talk to my dad just because. I show up whenever possible, and as a kid, I was always glued to my dad's side because I wanted to be there. My brother was always playing with his friends. It's not that my dad has ever loved him less, but that he and I had more in common, and I was always the first one down to hang out with my dad. I know most parents don't have favorites, and that's probably the best way to be, but with my dad, it was just easier with me than it was with my brother, and I understand that. My brother used to be more favored by my mom, but she'd deny it with every fiber of her being because she has 7 children and refuses to admit to a favorite. Regardless, I was always lucky to have had the parents I have. I was loved beyond measure, and still am. Not every kid gets to say that. Happy Fathers Day to all of those who celebrated.