A Tribute to my Dad on his 70th Birthday

In the summer of 1983 life was good, I was 7 years old, freshly graduated from the first grade. My sister, Bria, was 9, she was my best friend. We often spent our days trading stickers, pretending that we were Olympic gymnasts, and creating worlds in our neighborhood until the sun went down and the streetlights glowed. At that time it was just my mom, dad, Bria and I, later my mom would have two more daughters, Callan and Bryna. We lived in Escondido, California, where my entire family was born and raised. The summer of 83′ would end up being one of the best summers of my life. My dad drove a navy blue Toyota pick up truck, and had recently purchased a Six Pack Camper that he had attached to his truck. He had a dream. He was going to cruise us through America. He studied his road map and marked a route. We would hit every state except for Alaska and Hawaii before the summer’s end. So, we set out on our journey across America, with our heads hanging out the camper’s side window singing “Eye of the Tiger” and “Put Another Dime in The Juke Box, Baby” with all of our hearts into the warm California air. That summer is seared into my memories like a beautiful dream. Just the four of us cruisin’ through the states, picking up post cards in each state along the way.
My mom and dad eventually visited Hawaii and fell in love, revisiting it often. The only state left was Alaska. Fast forward to the year 2017, just north of Los Angeles, California, where myself, my two little sisters, Callan and Bryna, and my parents now live. Bria lives in Northern California with her husband and 2 kids. My dad is now planning for his 70th birthday celebration. He again, has a dream. He is dreaming of having my mom, all four of us girls and our families all take a cruise to Alaska, the final state. He books the trip and purchases the tickets. We were ready to go, dreaming of the Northern Lights. Exactly nine days before my dad’s birthday, he had health complications and ended up in the ICU. Within an hour of being admitted my little sisters and I were in the hospital, 5 hours later Bria was there. We were all together. The hours were long, we were grasping on to every second. We spent our days and nights by my dad’s side, all four sisters and my mom. My dad was just so happy to have all of us with him. Nothing could make him happier, not even Alaska. The day we were supposed to leave for the cruise my dad was moved out of the ICU into a regular hospital room. That evening I hugged my dad melting into his arms, my head resting on his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck, so grateful for his hug and his scent, noticing every little thing about him that I love so much. He gently rubbed my back and softly said,”Well, baby, all in all it’s been a pretty good week.” This was so profound to me. This was my father. He was not worried that we missed our trip, he was not focused on himself, he was just so happy that all four of his girls and my mom had all gotten to spend an entire week together.
The nature of this time spend together in the hospital caused me to reflect on all of my years spent with my dad. It opened a floodgate and the memories flooded in. It couldn’t have been easy being a father to us four girls. Much of my dad’s life has been spent chasing boys away. He would say, “You keep bringing them home, and I will keep sending them away.” Many times this did not go over well with us, as at the moment we wanted the boys to stay. However, my dad had vision and faith down to his core. He was unfaltering. He would gently say to us, “I’m sure they are fine for someone else, but they are just not right for you.” My dad always found the balance between holding our best interest in his heart, and developing deep relationships with each one of us girls. He was strong, yet gentle, and he never lost focus. He knew exactly what he was doing. Looking back he quite literally choose our husbands for us through his approval. He did not approve until we found someone who loved, adored, and respected us as much as he did. We definitely did not appreciate this growing up. It was a battle and he did not budge, not once. In retrospect, I look back and see it all so clearly. My perspective melts away and I see a father’s pure love and intentions. When I look back at my father, all I see is one of the deepest and truest loves that I have ever witnessed in this whole world. It is the real deal. It is who he is. It is who my mother is. And now it is who each one of my sisters is. It is what I am. Pure love.
You see, my mom and dad, both came from families where there wasn’t much structure, guidance, and most of all intention. They were happy and there was always much love, but both of my parents craved intention, direction, and purpose growing up. My parents are a Devine union. My mother’s heart and spirit are otherworldly. She possesses a moral compass within that, in my life, I have not once seen her stray from, she simply does not even glance away. She has always made choices that are pure and has always been led by her heart. She and my father were a match made in heaven. Pure, raw love. They worked intently over the past 50 years cultivating their love. Together they dug deep, uncovering their truths, which they followed relentlessly. Their focus on each of us girls as they raised us was intense. Their main focus was on our hearts and on developing who we were inside, to our cores. The expectation was that we would each always choose what what’s right and just, and that we would always choose love. Everything else was secondary. Sports, grades, even relationships, everything was secondary to who we were developing within ourselves. When you are strong and pure within, everything on the outside will fall beautifully into place.
People often ask my parents how they raised us. How did we all turn out to embody such deep love? My parents look at each other in remembrance of all of the years, they run through their philosophies and beliefs. I watch them and know, it is simply because of who they are. Their light shines bright like a billion stars. They are love. Pure and simple. We were made by love. We have been taught and raised through love. Our husbands are pure love. And now we have made and are raising our children as love. It is our future. Spreading love. Like still water, when I look into my husband’s, my sister’s, or my children’s eyes, I see my father clearly. Quite simply, his pure love, my mother’s pure love, and their intention. Just like they planned. When people look at me , I hope that they see my parents’ love. It will live in me forever. It is who I am. What a beautiful gift. To be love.

 Thank you, Dad. I love you.