Wonder Wench came into my life. When that happened, I had my
Lady, and he had his daughter. The night he died, she leaned over
and kissed his forehead. He opened his eyes and said, “That was very
nice.” I think those were his last words.
Mom had always wanted a daughter, too. And my Lady filled
that need just as well as she did for Dad. My Lady became Mom’s
daughter, and her best friend.
A little while ago, I said I was almost sorry my dad was my
hero—because I only saw what he did, and I never really found
out why he did those things. I think that’s a guy thing. And it’s too
bad. I don’t think I ever knew Dad very well as just a guy—a guy
with a wife and five kids and a mortgage and aches and pains and
hopes and fears. I never had the slightest idea about his hopes and
fears. Especially his fears. He must have had some. I think my Lady
Wonder Wench got to know him better than I ever did. She knew
him well enough to be the daughter he always wanted. She was never
his “daughter in law.” She was the daughter he always wanted, and
maybe needed.
I think the reason why guys always hope to have a daughter is
that we’d kind of like to have someone who’s smart enough and
caring enough to find out not just what we do, but why we do
it—and how we feel about what we’ve done. I’ll never forget the day
our daughter Kris was born. She opened her eyes, looked up at me,
squinted a little, gave a little half smile that said “Hi, I know who you
are. I’ll be your daughter, so don’t worry about a thing,” and went
back to sleep. From that day on, I always tried to be the kind of guy
she thinks I am. I don’t always make it. But I always try.
I’m looking at Dad’s picture on the wall right now, and let me
tell you, I’m taller than he was, but I have a lot of growing to do to
come close to being anywhere near his size
Happy Fathers Day Dick!