Grab your things, I've come to take you home...Part 1 of 6

To my dad

There are a million thoughts that come to my mind when I think of you.

Of all the people in my family, I have the strongest associations of home and family with you.

 Maybe because you would make us oatmeal with brown sugar on snow days, or because I feel so safe whenever you are around.

You taught me so much about life, and the older I get, the more I appreciate it.

 I appreciate the hours and hours you took to teach me that I could achieve anything I ever dreamed of.

I appreciate the hours and hours you worked in the hot sun to provide for me.

I love how much you love music.

I love that you taught me to appreciate Mozart, Beethoven, Pink Floyd, Dire Straights, Santana and a million others.

I love your advice.

Sometimes I think up something to ask about, just because I love to hear you say "You know, Oreo..you get out of line and "the man" is going to knock you back in place".

Everywhere I went in Europe, I wished you were there.

 When I was sitting on the benches in the Vatican, looking up at the Sistine Chapel ceiling, I wished a hundred times over that you were looking up with me, because you know just how to capture the magnitude of such moments.

My favorite moments in Europe where when we drove by Verona and they played "Romeo and Juliet" by Dire Straits and when my tour bus in London drove by Speakers Corner and I stood up and shrieked "There's Speakers Corner!"

You were always right about everything.

 If I could go back to childhood and adolescence, I would follow you around with a notebook, recording everything you said.

I know that if I am ever in a bad situation, you could save me.

I love that you and Mom bought me furniture for my first apartment and that you carried it across the street on your back.

 I felt like a kindergartner, thinking "Look what my dad can do, I bet your dad can't do that!"

I think you are brave and smart and wise.

 I tell my clients endless stories about you and I wish I could give them the same kind of father that I had.

I get my love of nature from you.

I get my love of animals from you.

 I get my love of history from you (and Mom).

You taught me to serve without having any expectations in return.

 You taught me that living a life of fairness and integrity is more important than 'getting ahead'.

Thanks for taking away the TV so that we would all become readers.

Thanks for every single lecture on education.

 Thanks for knowing my teachers and guidance counselors on a first name basis.

 Thanks for going prom dress shopping with me.

Thanks for letting me live with you in grad school.

Thanks for the dance skills I inherited from you.

I love you. 

It's hard for me to say that.

 It feels weird, because we are not that kind of family.

 But, you are almost sixty and already have one foot in the grave so I thought I'd better tell you soon:)

Thanks for being my dad.

 I couldn't have asked for more.

Oreo