I was a lucky girl and I am a fortunate woman.

My dad is special.  He's not perfect, but he's good.  He's often inappropriately hilarious and he's smart and he gives a great big hug any time for any reason.  He doesn't judge too much.  I've never had to be anything particularly special for him to treat me like I was.  He shows up when I need him.  He always has.  He gives quirky gifts on random days just because.  So, I was lucky to grow up with him and I knew it, my friends knew it, my boyfriends knew it.  If he went to the store he always brought home bubble gum or Starbursts.  My dad would drive all of my friends home from the movies at midnight, no matter where they lived.  If someone had trouble getting a ride I knew my dad would cover them and we'd listen to our pop-crap radio station the whole way, volume up high, acting like the fun foolish kids we were.  He never complained, never showed that our squealing teenage girl voices might grate on a nerve.  I never felt like he wanted me to be anything other than who I was.  I never needed to "grow up" or "act right."  He just accepted me, goofy and weird.  I was raised to be loved and cared for, respected and valued.  That's just true.  I learned to be independent and self-reliant, but I also learned that good men could be trusted.

I was a lucky girl.

My husband is special too.  Doug is the kind of man everyone wants to be around.  He is instantly trusted and loved.  He's just one of Those People.  Charismatic, fun, up-for-anything, smart.  He thinks differently.  He's a guy who fixes things, cares for people.  He's not afraid to show the world how much he loves our family.  He's reliable and a hard worker, an idea man.  A man who tries to keep his word.  Not perfect, but he's good.  He shows up when I need him.  Now he's become a dad and it's an awesome thing.  He's a dad who marvels at his daughter, his beautiful daughter.  He delights in her.  We've spent hours just sitting on the floor together watching her.  He dresses her and changes her diapers.  He eats messy food from slobbery hands just because it makes her laugh.  He's learning sign language so he can teach her.  He hasn't had to pick her up or drive her friends home.  He's never brought her bubble gum (thank God!).  But he will one day.  I'm sure.

I am a fortunate woman.  My daughter is a lucky girl.

Happy Father's Day!