I was extremely lucky to be born into a great family. My parents gave me a safe, warm, loving childhood for which I will be forever grateful. Of course, they weren’t perfect, but when I became an adult myself I began to understand how hard they worked to provide this environment for me.
My dad was a teacher at my high school; he taught biology and Bible classes. Although my brother was not thrilled to have his dad at school all the time, I loved it! I would sometimes hang out in his classroom during study halls. Plus, having permission slips signed was a cinch with my dad down the hall. I could tell he cared about the other students; he would joke with them and talk to them about music. At our conservative Christian school, it was nice to have a teacher who listened to Hendrix and enjoyed a nice glass of wine, who wouldn’t give pat answers if you were questioning your faith, who understood what it meant to wrestle with ideas.
My dad earned a master’s degree sometime before I turned 4 years old. After being out of school for a long time, he recently returned to work on a PhD. He’s a pretty humble person and paints houses for a living while going to school. I think it’s awesome. Besides being super smart, my dad has a massive record collection (his tastes include bluegrass, jazz, psychedelic rock from the 60s and 70s, and classical, among others) and has taken up gardening, converting a long strip of land behind the garage into a luscious patch of beans, tomatoes, and squash. He’s also a die-hard Baltimore Orioles fan, so even though I don’t really like baseball I will root for them whole-heartedly if they ever get anywhere near a World Series (ha!).
Now that I’m an adult, I feel I can converse with my dad as a good friend, and I still look to him for fatherly advice from time to time. And although no one in my family is really big on holidays, Father’s Day is certainly an excellent excuse for my parents and brother to go out to eat.