Why My Dad Deserves The Happiest of Birthdays

We expect our parents to be a lot of things: perfect sums up the list. When you become a parent, as I recently have, you realize that while you strive for perfection you constantly fail. You give your kid the sugary juice box at the party so they don't scream at the top of their lungs; you laugh when they do something really bad if it looks funny and then you hypocritically yell at them and get them super confused; you countdown the minutes until bedtime and then you miss them the second they go to sleep. All of your perceived failures are unnoticed by your kid, though. They go unnoticed because you love your kid and even when you're making mistakes you're trying your best. I'm sure my Dad made a ton of mistakes, but when I think about my childhood, and when I think about him, it/he was perfect.

Whenever I talk to my Dad about stuff Valen is doing he says, "Oh, you guys never did any of that. You were angels." Then he laughs and says "That's what your Mommom used to say to me and Mom whenever we asked about you guys." I specifically remember the angels tearing up the neighborhood like a pack of rabid dogs, and I know my Mommom would say the same thing if you asked her about my Dad and his siblings today, but thanks for the sentiment.

It's hard to remember the everyday stuff from when you were a kid. What stands out to me is that my Dad traveled a lot for work, and so he wasn't around much during the week, but he was at all of our sporting events, all of our dance recitals, and we were always going somewhere fun on the weekends. We'd go to the fair, the zoo, Trains and Lanes, Nazareth Speedway, the Jersey Shore, Mommom's to swim, or we'd stay home and work in the yard or on the car (we would not actually help in any way). He worked really hard so we could experience every fun thing a kid could experience. He worked really hard so that my mom could focus on raising us three kids, and now that I am one I realize what a sacrifice that must have been.

He sacrificed time with his kids when we were little so that we could have a nice life, and then he sacrificed that lifestyle when his wife got sick so he could take care of all of us. I watched him act as my mother's nurse when she died, and then I watched him learn how to be both a Mom and a Dad after. I imagine he probably did a lot of crying, yelling into pillows and punching through drywall but we never heard any of it. I never heard him complain once. He just started doing the laundry, and making the lunches, and helping us with our homework while the bills piled up and we never heard a negative word about it. He taught me what selfless looks like, what real love between a man and a woman looks like, what Christianity feels like, and what it means to be a parent when the impossible happens.

He's not a perfect man, and I'm sure he's made a lot of mistakes like all of us do, but he's always been the perfect Dad. He is kind, generous, and supportive; he doesn't judge me, even when he should; he's hilarious, he's a true friend, and he's the sweetest Charlie (because we can't call him Grandpa) there ever was. Thank you for all that you are, and all that you've done for me. I love you, Dad. Have the happiest Birthday!