Last week, (I spent too long editing) The Daily Post’s weekly Discover Challenge is Superhero. All I had to do was take one look at that word, and think of my Daddy – although I like to think ‘Saint’ describes him way better.
I could talk on and on about my dad for literally days. He is my rock, my shelter, my inspiration, and my drive. He is the voice of reason every time I need help:
- How do you hard boil eggs…call Dad for instructions
- My car is making this really weird noise…call Dad for explanations and severity level
- My stomach hurts real bad what do I do…call Dad for remedies and causes
- I think I bombed that test…call Dad for reassurance
- I can’t STAND this teacher…call Dad for some humbling “suck it up” advice, followed by a similar, awesome story of his from his college days
- Crap I’m lost…call Dad for directions, included with mile markers and NSEW gps turn navigation
- This yogurt expired…call Dad to see if you’re gonna die because you already ate it
The man knows everything, seriously. When in doubt, call Norb.
I am so unbelievably blessed to have this superhero of a father. A father who would drive me to school 3 blocks away because it was raining or blizzard snowing and I didn’t want to walk. A father who would drive back and forth to school to drop me off in the morning, drop my bowling ball off after school, and then come to pick me up after practice. A father who never failed to give up, a father who worked 6-6 everyday and then still came home to make us dinner. A father who dealt with multiple whiny teenage girls fighting and screaming over clothes and computer time. A father who dropped what he was doing to pull out a GIANT table map of the Chicago suburbs to tell me an alternate way to get to work when the highway was closed because of a turned over truck – and then telling me alternate ALTERNATE ways when the first couple didn’t work because of a stopped train on the tracks.
He was the first man I ever loved, and the man that holds the highest standard for every other human being on this planet. Norb knows it all, and what Norb says goes (even if I didn’t want to believe that when I was a bratty 16 year old).
He is an actual mix between a magician and MacGyver. A broken shoe, a dent in a car, a ruined zipper, a football cake pan that just won’t stay flat when you put the batter in it – you name it, he can fix it. If you go to him in the worst possible mood, he can make you feel better…just like magic.
He has shown me and my sisters what love is, he has shown us what we deserve and taught us to never settle for anything less. He pushed us to make sure we were always giving 110% and never giving up; he knew we could do it, so he made sure we did.
He deals with our ‘fun’ games that include asking him what year, make and model every car we pass on the street is, playing punch bug in the back of the car , playing the name games on our road trips, listening to us sing extremely obnoxious songs (hello Tigger song and Little Bunny FooFoo) with our friends while he tried – and probably failed – to tune us out. He dealt with me reading every.single.sign. after I learned how to read, and with my sisters and I screaming at each other every day for something different. He (somehow) managed not to hand us grilled cheese and french fries every night when he would feed us the exact same thing a second time because we liked it the first, but then change our minds and decide we suddenly cannot eat it without dying.
He always supported us, reminding us that our first priority is school; school ALWAYS comes first, and he would always understand that some things, like math and imaginary numbers, just don’t click, no matter how hard we focus.
But most importantly, he never lets us forget that he loves us. He is the perfect definition of a father. He is a FANTASTIC grandfather, as well as father, and I know we are all the luckiest people alive to have him in our lives.
Thank you for everything you do for us, Daddy. We will never be able to thank you enough.
I love you.