It’s been a while since I have written… usually I imagine a good premise and go from there. However; this time… it is a little different. Sometimes you dream at night and it just fades away like sand blowing in the desert. Sometimes you dream and it sticks with you like a memory engrained in your mind… last night was the memory. Waking up this morning at 36 years old, on my day off, and it is 6am. No I did not set an alarm… I did clean the kitchen, stretch and clear my throat like no one can hear me, and made coffee, just like my Father used to do. That’s when it hit me… the dream… or should I say memory.

I hear faint laughter… it is me as a little boy. I am watching myself like an omnipresent being from the ceiling. It is sunny out as I am running through my childhood home. The sun beams act like lasers coming through the window. I try to dodge them like Indiana Jones evading the big bolder while I am wearing my father’s t-shirt. A nightly ritual… I take my father’s t-shirt to wear to bed. It goes past my knees but I don’t care. The smell of his Drakkar Noir cologne permeates my senses; however, it helps me fall asleep while he is still at work.

Back to the sun beams… 6am Friday, during the summer days of childhood. I make sure not to wake my Brother or Mother as I reach the bathroom door, ever so cracked open with the water running. My father is brushing his teeth as he stares deeply into the mirror. As a child that stare meant nothing… as a 36 year old father that provides for his own family… we all know that stare is meant for the day ahead. Meant for how we are going to take the day by the horns, we will grind through all the hours at hand, and we will provide. I crack open the door a bit more, almost like an acknowledgement of “hey I’m here” as he glances through the mirror to lock eyes with me. He rinses his mouth and gives me a smile. The smell of coffee billows through the air as I try to find the right moment to ask him…

“Hey dad… since it’s Friday do you think we can do a Blockbuster night??” I squeeze my hands in anticipation. Knowing now as an adult how those questions could make or break a day for a kid, not knowing as a kid what it meant to work 12 hours and that is his norm for the week… I understand the magnitude of those questions now. He did not hesitate. “Pizza too? I’m thinkin’ Sicilian and knots, sound good?” The joy that exuded from my body as a kid must have brought him so much joy in return. While not knowing the long day ahead he had, all I know is I have the coolest dad.

Years of the same would happen, but we all grow older. Those blockbuster nights turned into “hey Dad can you drop me off at the movies?” turned into “sorry Dad I already have plans tonight.” To this day, I am so grateful for all that my Father has done for his family. The monumental decisions, to the every day acknowledgements. I cannot say enough, as a Father myself now, how proud I am of the Father I have. Spending those Blockbuster nights with us, going to our sporting events, just showing up… my father has showed me what priorities are and how to do that as a father myself.

I just want to say to all the old school Fathers, present day Fathers, and to my Father… thank you. It is our turn to look back to you and show our appreciation for how you were there for us… it is our turn to say… “atta boy”