Dad and Me

Dad and Me, originally uploaded by margosita.

My dad has a very loud voice. Later, when I call him to wish him a happy Father's Day, if there is anyone else in the room with me, that person will also be able to hear my father on the phone. Not on purpose, or because he is yelling, but just because he's speaking and his voice happens to be something that can be heard across rooms, soccer fields and anywhere in the house if he happens to talk back to either the TV or newspaper. When I get worked up, opinionated or drunk my voice becomes his. "Shh, Margaret" someone will say and my pink cheeks will turn a little pinker. I blame my father.

I also blame my father for my hair, my height and the fact that I was never late to high school. Every morning, just to give me an extra half hour of sleep, my dad drove me across town to school. Often we picked up one or two of my friends, both who had a tendency to be running late and we'd idle in front of their houses, my dad letting me punch at the radio dials.

When I was young my dad coached my soccer team. He was an enthusiastic coach and he would often times call to us on the field, "Keep those legs moving!" I have only recently starting going to the gym and running on the treadmill and when I (nearly immediately) start to lag I'll think of him on the sidelines. This is clearly entirely his fault.

Though it is not entirely his fault, my father probably deserves some of the blame for my being a feminist, and a writer and a person who is generally not too afraid of following my dreams. My dad never treated me like a "princess", or acted as though because I was a girl he expected anything different of me than my brother. Once, when I sitting in front of my dollhouse, acting out some elaborate melodrama my dad said, "You know, Margaret, I just want you to know that I don't think any of your playing is wasted. I know you're learning a lot, just doing what you're doing." At the time I thought it was a weird thing to say, but I know now it was just my dad encouraging me and letting me know he took me seriously. Now, when we talk in my writing program of writing as "serious play", I get it.  Turns out, he always did.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Comments

[Lauren]

I love these Odes to your parents. Incredibly sweet. :)

[Christine]

This is so very very sweet and wonderful. Makes me want to give YOUR dad a hug! :) (btw...have you read the Granta series on fathers?)

[dad]

This is Margaret` dad and my voice is not loud, but I am getting a little deaf. As far as the running is concerned I take complete responsibility. Love ya,sweetie