5.01.2009

A non-poem tribute, for the Occasion

When Angie was planning her wedding
(for about 6 weeks)
we women spent a couple of days wedding dress-shopping.
It was a lot of fun.

We started at a little local store, where I tried on some formal dresses
just to see how I looked,
and because I hoped to go to a school dance sometime in the near future.

Only one of them stole my heart -
a lovely purple, slender, shimmery thing that had obviously been in the store for a while (judging by the price tag) -
I wanted it, someday.
I tucked that away for future reference.

Nine months later (yes nine!)
I was awoken in the wee hours of the morning
by a strange alarm clock under my bed,
a rose, and a note
asking me to my Senior Homecoming.
(Don’t worry, I got him back.)

First chance I got, I drove to the store with my mother
to see if The Dress was still there...
It was.
But, I couldn’t pay for it then, so I sighed and walked out the door,
planning to return the next week.

Monday I returned and scanned the shelves with a sinking feeling.
Not there.
The lady at the counter recognized me and asked for my name.
Then she pulled a dress bag off the rack and handed it to me.
“All paid for,” she said.
My dress! And it was already paid for!
Dad...

Dad had gone and bought the dress for me,
wouldn’t even let me pay him back.

My dad does great things like that.

And speaking of that guy…
It’s his birthday today!

(That's actually the point of this post, it's hard to tell, I know)



Last night Slice was asking me what my dad likes to do, for fun,
we were discussing ideas for gifts.
I thought.
And thought.
And thought.

“Nothing really,” I said, “he has no hobbies.”
“He just likes to be with his kids. And to make them happy.
He likes to fish – with his kids, and camp – with his kids, and work with his kids,
And watch BYU football,
but that’s it.
I think he just likes to read.
(That’s why he’s impossible to buy gifts for
and I give him books every birthday, Father’s Day and Christmas.)”

I never know what else to do.

The great part is, though, I know he really doesn’t want anything
but for me to know he loves me,
(I do)
and for his family to be truly happy.
(we are)

Isn’t that the mark of a great man?


2 comments:

Talk to me.