My dad will do anything for anyone. Last year he agreed to lend a neighbor our guest bed after mowing her lawn for the thousandth time. Fortunately, my mother and I are similar enough to put a stop to many of these outrageously generous offerings and the bed stayed at home. I’ve always known my father was a kind and giving man but these traits seem to resonate with me more so since I’ve moved out of my parents house, especially in the instance of finding my mate.
I am very much so a daddy’s girl, maybe more evident now that we live 400 miles away from each other and I call him for advice on everything–oil changes, school loans, how to cook a great steak, the list goes on and on. And annoyingly, on. Perhaps the distance between us is why I felt the need to seek out a man that was like my dad. Not that I had to seek him out. You see, the love of my life was right under my nose, or more appropriately, under my roof. After a year of living with two strangers, I fell in love with one of them and it is not shockingly so: he is as laid-back, funny, caring, generous and helpful as my father. This relaxed and laissez-faire attitude comes at a fault as it occasionally becomes so infuriating that I find myself shouting or explaining that “Yes, it is a big deal,” just like my mother (this is where 20-something girls can blame the I’m-becoming-my-mother dilemma on loving-a-man-who-is-just-like-my-father idea).
There are many differences between the two most important men of my life, of course. My father had his first child in high school, working hard doing labor for years, and succeeding to become a doctor in mid-life. My boyfriend on the other hand was born to parents already in their forties, working on a life of adventure and leisure for their kids to the point where they are almost expertly spoiled. He and my father get along so well that often times, I am not invited while they are off on a drive or hitting the ski slopes together. It’s a very comforting feeling knowing that once my boyfriend does ask for my hand in marriage he will be met with joyful approval and enter into an even deeper friendship and mutual respect with my father.
Though I can see many similarities in these two men, born decades apart, I know that they have one thing so strongly in common: that they both love me beyond the point of reason. My only hope is that one day that I have a daughter of my own who knows what it’s like to have such an incredible man for a father. Considering the enormously caring, giving nature of my own father, she would be one spoiled “Granddaddy’s Girl” too.