A Father and his Daughter

How a person defines relationships is the best way to start explaining the relationship I had with my father. We were best of friends and not the kind of parent child friendship. We had a connection that spans many years and is still strong today. Maybe not as strong as it was once only because one cord of the unbreakable bond is no longer living but our friendship still transcends the grave.

The relationship between a parent and a child can go one of two ways. Either a bond will form that cannot be broken easily or it is a relationship that they just manage to tolerate each other. I was very blessed to have the first relationship with my father and sadly the latter with my mother. For as far back as I can remember my dad was my best friend. I am the youngest of five kids. My closest sibling is seven years my senior.  My parents were their early forties when I was born and yes, I was a surprise and not planned. In fact, before they had me they had decided to get rid of all the kid furniture and toys, minus a few antiques. Somehow this fact did not cause me to act like a spoiled brat. Instead of this causing me to look at them as old and out of touch, it caused me to draw closer to my father. My mom and I have had our normal parent, child struggles but my father and I had a bond that only grew stronger over time. All through school, he was the one I would look to for a friend, confidant, and sounding board.

After I was married, I would still call him to just chat, for a moment to share a joke or to have a long talk about nothing and everything. More often than not, the conversation would start and end with a joke of some kind. That was always our thing, a thing my mother never really understood and found to be very odd. You only called her if you wanted to talk for a long time and it needed to be something deep. My dad was my biggest cheerleader, always cheering me on and pushing me to do my best. I am not saying that my father never got on my case about things but he has a way about him that made his critics seem ok to hear. As with most children I did not like to be told I was doing something wrong but when my dad did it I found myself not only ok with hearing it but also doing my best to change my actions. Truly the worst things that I could do as a child and even as an adult is do something that would make my father, my best friend be ashamed of me. My father was one that did not think I could do no wrong, instead he was very honest that I was a child and children get in trouble. He was never mean about discipline but instead he was fair and consistent. It did not matter that I was the youngest child of five, if I misbehaved or did something that I was told not to do, the punishment would follow.  

I was never able to find a connection with anyone my age at school. Yes of course, I had friends in my classes but they were surface deep at best. My father who was forty- two years older than me but that did not seem to matter. Somehow by some trick of the mind we were best friends. When I got married, I asked him in a letter to walk me down the aisle. Yes it may have been a given job for a father to do for his daughter but it was more important to me that I can put into words. I was married for seven years when I got some of the worst news of my life. My father, my friend has a heart attack while driving and ended up hitting a telephone pole. This accident took his life and a huge piece of my heart.

It has now been ten years since he has been gone. I still find myself wondering what he would think of what my day to day life is shaping up to be. I also still after ten years, find myself asking him questions, yes it is a once sided conversation but it still happens. It may seem a little strange if you do not have as close a relationship with your parent but for me it is a very normal natural occurrence.

I now have a child and pray that we can have close to the same kind of relationship. One that while there is still respect for me as his parent and respect from me to him as my child, he can also look at me as a friend. Maybe not his best friend but still someone he would feel comfortable to talk to about most anything.

At this point you may be wondering if I have my father on a pedestal and think or believe he is or was perfect. That would not be farther from the truth. I know and knew my dad was not perfect. He was a man and men are not perfect beings, but he tried his hardest to be honest, loyal, loving and just an all-around friend. If you did something to him that would break his trust, he was not afraid to let you know. He was also very forgiving knowing that everyone has their days and sometimes things just don’t work like we as humans believe they should. I am now doing my hardest to instill these traits in my son. I truly believe he will have a much happier life, as I did and still do, if he tries to life a little more like my best friend always tried to live.