Saturday, June 20, 2015

{ I stopped calling you daddy } - daughter. yogi. mama. austin, tx

Dad I'm so thankful that you and mom gave me life. I try to say it often and I hope you hear it, I love you.
I remember playing with june bugs when you left for a City Council meeting, I admired your beard.
I sat on your lap in the tractor and watched you churn the earth to prepare for a plant.
You let me slide down with the rice into dryer and I can clearly recall the worry across your face.
Thank you for pushing me on the tire swing and taking me out to see alligator nests.
The creek house was mutually enchanting and terrifying and would be that way to me even as a teen.
I'm sorry for the year I stopped talking to you.
I'm sorry I was a fifteen year old brat who blamed you for secrets I was ashamed of.
Dad I know I broke your heart and I'm so glad you've never given up on me.
Thank you for teaching me how I should be loved.
You let me drive a tractor, fly a plane, and shoot a pistol.
Thank you for trusting me.
You pour love into my life, my girl's lives, and you dote on everyone you can.
I'm a better person because of you.
I can remember many times you saying "I'm proud of you."
Daddy, I'm proud to be yours.