Dad

I remember being four or five and afraid of the dark.  I’m sure I incessantly called my dad into my room every three minutes for various requests and being the sort of guy he was, he would bring me my glasses of milk or adjust the door just so.  Eventually though,  likely out of desperation for some peace and quiet, he would do something I don't think many fathers would do.  He didn't yell, my father never yelled.  He didn't threaten either.  He didn't do that ever.  What he did do was slide a Jim Reeve’s album out of its cardboard sleeve and place it on the turn table.  Ha! That was my cue.

I would clamber over the side of my bunk bed and stand on the top step of my ladder.  He would lift me up hold me in his arms and as the music started, he would begin to spin me slowly in a circle.  We would dance that way in my tiny room, the crackling of the album in my ear and the worn cotton of his work shirt against my cheek.  After a verse or two, my dad would sing along with Jim Reeves.  I remember his voice sounding exactly like the one from the record.  It was deep and smooth and it was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.  

He would spin slowly around and around.  I would catch a glimpse of us in the mirror over my dresser, him in his olive green shirt and navy blue pants and stocking feet and me in my Holly Hobby flannel nightgown and bare feet dangling.  His cigarette pack in his shirt front pocket being smashed by my chest.  After a few songs he would pull away and ask, “All set for bed now?”  With my nod, he would lift me with his superhuman daddy strength, airplane sound effects and everything, up over the bar of my top bunk and pull my blanket over my shoulders. 

He never said no to my request of a late night song and dance.  I’m sure he was exhausted and there were many nights the recliner was especially difficult to leave behind.  But he danced away my fears and made me feel like the only person in the entire world that mattered while he sang to me. 

As he pulled my door partly closed he would usually leave me with his nightly, “Good night Squirt.  Love you.”  As I drifted off to sleep I felt completely loved and completely safe. 

For those moments and for countless others, thank you Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.