My Father's Day post, a day late.
I often first describe my dad to people by saying “My dad is such an asshole”. But I shouldn’t, because people interpret it the wrong way. What I want to say is “My dad is that asshole friend you have who always makes fun of you but he’s a totally awesome dude.” But usually all I can muster is a chuckle and “God, my dad’s an asshole.”
When I first started going to school here, my dad told all our family and friends that I was going to an “arts and crafts school”. Then he would promptly crack up at his own joke. He also constantly makes fun of me for choosing visual arts over performance arts, repeatedly referring to them as the “static arts.” In high school he chastised me for not having a boyfriend, literally calling me “loser” a few times, but when I finally did get one he just talked about shooting him all the time (again, jokingly). When I failed at hockey he made fun of me for not being a “true Canadian”, and when I failed at every other sport he probably just laughed more. He was in Type A classes for most of my childhood so I remember a fair amount of anger and aggression followed by lesson plans and coping tactics. Some times I feel like he should probably still be in that class. He is, most certainly, bossy and able to dish it out but not able to take it. His temper is short.
But here’s the thing. My dad also bought me my first camera, taught me how to use it, and has given me all my favorite cameras after that one (and taught me how to use them as well). He is the reason I am able to travel so much. He introduces me to endless foreign countries. Thanks to him, I am now trilingual. He is maybe the only person in my family genuinely interested in my art. He knows exactly how to brew my tea in the mornings and would bring me a cup in bed every day before high school. He makes amazing spaghetti sauce, has a great sense of humor, and is probably the reason for my wanderlust and interest in other cultures. He stops at nothing for my education and furthering of life experiences; he is the one who took me on my east coast college tour where I had stupidly planned to see 14 schools in one week. He didn’t complain.
I love my dad, and it makes me so happy to see us becoming friends who can share a beer without losing our father daughter past. I owe most of my favorite experiences to him and yes while he is an asshole, I’m pretty sure I’m one too. I hope I get it from him.
