I’ve been pondering lately about why it is that some girls like me have this vision of prince charming on his magnificent white horse? Why are we always on this hunt for Mr. Right? What has led us to believe that we will bump into this perfect stranger and that this stranger might be the “one”? The one, who fits us flawlessly, thinks we’re perfectly wonderful, sexy and smart. He laughs at our jokes, is interested in what we have to say, and completes us in every way. And best of all he wants to be with us till death do us part.
And then it hit me. My whole life I’ve grown around that man. That wonderful person who has been a constant in my life. The first love of my life, my father. This is a man who has always made me feel good about myself. Told me how beautiful and bright I was, listened to everything I had to say, gave me security when I needed it but also pushed me forward to reach the horizon.
A man who ran behind my bike for the 100th time to prevent me from falling and bruising my knees because this girl had (and still has) no sense of balance.
A man who sang me songs before bedtime with his beautiful voice; songs which till this very day when I hear them make me tear up. And as I grew up he read me bedtime stories and books. We read the hobbit together when I was only five. Chapter by chapter we would solve the riddles making our way to the end of the adventurous tale.
A man who had pneumonia for a week after jumping into the chilly waters of Lake Michigan in the breezy April air to get my $1 Frisbee which had fallen in, and I couldn’t bear to live without.
A man who broke his arm, as he let go of his daughter’s hand to twirl around on the ice skating rink, trying to impress me. Mission accomplished dad I’m impressed!
A man who sadly accepted his little girl would never be the math whiz he was, but would still sit with me till the early hours of dawn, tears in his eyes and frustration plastered all over his face, helping me study for a mathematics exam, as we sat side by side solving the problems away.
The more I think about it, the more clear it seems to me, that the reason I still believe in love, in relationships and in men; the reason I still believe that one day I’ll find a man who is so wonderful, so caring, so loving, and so worth it…is because I know they exist. I’ve been lucky enough to meet that man and grow up at his side. Or maybe I should say my mother was lucky (and smart) enough to meet him, fall in love with him and marry him.
Happy Birthday Dad! Here’s to many more years spent together.
Divorcing Mr. Wrong 