May 9, 2011

• A Little About Daddy

   

  My Daddy.

  Truth is, I don’t call him Daddy all the time like I did growing up. Somewhere along the way, it got shortened to Dad.

  But when I think of him, when I picture his jet black hair or his wide, brown hands, my heart says Daddy. 

  What makes him unique is that he’s about as close to perfect as you’ll ever find.         ~~~~~~~     Of course I don’t mean perfect perfect-but as a father to me, there couldn’t be a better one on the planet.  

  He’s soft spoken and mild mannered. Good natured and pretty much an eternal optimist.

  On Saturday mornings at the Fitzgerald house, we were frequently awakened by LOUD Marine Corp Band marching music. Being a former Marine himself, and a true patriot, nothing else made more sense. Funny thing, I don’t remember  any of us being terribly annoyed by it. I’m sure we had our days but somehow it forced us to get up, get our day going, and get happy about it. We weren’t slouchy on the weekends. There was always yard work to do.  Pine straw to rake and sticks to pick up. To this day, Dad loves nothing more than the smell of a burn pile. Of course, there’s was usually grilling out and a movie or much loved hand stand contests that followed the work.
  

  He’s witty and can fix just about anything. He’s a motivator. An encourager. I could listen to stories from his childhood or  boot camp all day. 

  I can remember few days where we didn’t all gather in the den morning and night for what we called, “sharing time”. We spent a few minutes in the Bible,  talked about our day, and prayed together. We had honest conversations and didn’t brush things under the rug. We were a team: the good, the bad, and the ugly. This was mostly due to his leadership and commitment to being a Godly example to us.
  

   

   

    

   

   

  
  

  Today, he’s the person I would call if I needed sound, no panic wisdom. He has a calming effect on me that warms my heart.

  Even though I’m 36, he still makes me feel safe. Everything will be okay because he says it will.

  After all, he’s the man that got up in the middle of the night twice to go get his scared little girl who just wasn’t quite ready to spend the night off.
  

  He’s the man that same little girl followed across the boulders at the Chimney’s in Gatlinburg because she knew if her foot could just step exactly where his did, there’s no way she would slip. Even if she did, he was right there to grab her.

  His was the arm she clung to when they waded out into the ocean in search of the first sand bar. She couldn’t touch but he could. 

   

   

   

  
  

  
  

   

  Some of my favorite things he says:
  

   

   “I feel so good, I could grab a tree and shake the world!” 

   

   “I’ve been spit on, laughed at, and kicked, but never insulted.”

   

   “Lord deliver me from two things. Folding fitted sheets and trying to find keys in a woman’s purse.”

   

  HaPpy biRtHDaY, Daddy!   ~~~I Love You~~~

   

  ~stacey
  

  
  

   

   

  
  

  
  

  • 6:19 pm
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