isä

That's Finnish for father, btw. I chose it because I think Finnish is a fun word to say, not because I have Finnish roots or I'm in love with Finland or anything like that. Speaking of roots, I am Ukranian and Scottish, with a sprinkling of Metis on my father's side. And it's my father's side that I want to talk about today.

I'm told that when I was little more than a baby, my dad had to go off on a trip somewhere for a few weeks and when he got back, he tried to hold me but I had forgotten who he was, so I freaked out. I should mention that at this time he had bushy black curly hair and a bushy black moustache, so really I had a good excuse to be frightened. To this day when he tells that story, however, he will tear up at the thought of being shunned by his little girl. Which, in turn, makes me tear up. In fact it will be a miracle if I make it through writing this post without crying.

Anyway, when I was younger I have to say I was closer with my mom. She played barbies and 'Kitten Surprise' (I pretended to be a kitten she received in the mail, and would proceed to crawl around meowing for an hour or so) with me, and later she was the one who I talked to about boys, my body, my faith, and pretty much whatever else that came into my head. So this post is not to compare my parents, but since it is my dear old dad's birthday today, I thought I would focus on him.

My father was always a quiet man, and his face had the tendency to appear stern, at times glowering. He likes things very structured; family vacations were always planned to the T. He is fiercly protective of those he loves, and for all of his sarcasm and silence, he is very soft hearted.

I remember dreading getting in to trouble with him, leaping out of bed in the morning at the first sound of his footstep on the stairs, whispering threats to my brother not to tell on me for pushing him into a birthday cake one time, figuring out how to twist my stories so that while I wasn't lying, I wasn't necessarily telling the truth. The worst was when I was seriously in trouble and he just refused to talk to me. On one occasion he wouldn't even look at me for days. It was the worst feeling in the world.

I have many other memories of my dad. I was lucky enough to have both parents around, and generally very happy together, while I was growing up. But my very favorite memories of him are not the typical father-daughter kind. Like when he told me that he didn't really know what I was up to, and didn't need to know, but if I decided that I liked girls he would support me and love me anyway. Or when we were standing outside the church together, arm in arm in his tux and my gorgeous white dress, and he looked at me and said "if you want to turn around and go, I'll take you." How hard it must have been for him to watch his only daughter give herself to a man he knew wasn't The Right Man. But he did. And he never threw it back in my face when I came to the same realization. He loves me enough to let me make my own mistakes, and has always been there to pick me up and dust me off afterwards.

His favorite phrases stick with me, and I will probably repeat them to my children (if I have any). His wisdom and open mind helped shaped me into the reasonably functional and very happy person I am today, and though we can calmly discuss things like funeral plans and executors of estates, I shiver to think of a day when he won't be around to answer my emails or phone calls. And so I am taking the opportunity now to give credit where credit is due. It always seemed silly and a little sad to me that people usually say the nicest things about you after you're gone.

It's funny how your relationship with your parents change as you get older. In recent years I began to see my father as the man he is, apart from his role in my life, his family obligations. Instead of panicking because I didn't want to face yet another stage of growing up - ok, fine, I panicked a little bit - I decided to get to know him. I'm so very happy to say that we can talk for hours about many things, and I have a strong sense of who he really is, not just who he is to me. 

To sum it all up, I'll have to refer to my favorite Disney movie, The Little Mermaid. It's not Sebastian's catchy songs or Prince Eric's dreamy smile (he seems a bit slow in all honesty) that stand out in my mind. Whenever I think of that movie I think of King Triton, looking at Ariel who is looking at the Prince, and he says "Then I guess there's only one problem left...how much I'm going to miss her." Thank you, Daddy, for being everything I needed you to be, and loving me enough to let me become whoever I wanted. Happy Birthday.