I Loved Her First

I've been meaning to write a blog post dedicated to my dad for about a week now, and because today is his birthday (HBD, Kevin O!!!), I was extra inspired.

Fifty-seven years ago, an incredible person was born, and the world was forever changed for the better. This person claims that he isn't smart, because he isn't really that "book smart." Being "book smart" isn't everything ---- he knows that ---- and in my opinion, being "life smart" is so much more important.

This person is most definitely life smart, because he is the wisest person I know; this is partially because he has been through and seen things that he says he never wants me to see, things that one unfortunately sees as a criminal investigator/detective in the dangerous neighborhoods in Cook County. This person is also wise, though, because he knows how to use his words both affectively and effectively ---- I think he is probably where I learned it from. He gives the kind of advice that makes your heart stop and your eyes sort of water (but you aren't crying; you promise you're not...) because you know that they're coming from his heart, and he never says things he doesn't really and truly mean. He says things that make you want to go out and do something.

He tells the truth ---- always ---- except when it comes to himself and how he's feeling, because he rarely shows his emotions. He is a stoic, quiet man, because that is how his dad taught him to be; he doesn't show when he is sick, hurt, or sad ---- never ----- because he is stubborn and he knows that he needs to get done what he needs to get done: he needs to get up, get ready, and go to work, regardless of how he is feeling; he knows that he needs to take care of his family that he loves more than anything in the world (even Bud Light). He is strong, determined, and focused like that, and he is even more hardworking (I am so much like this person personality-wise, despite supposedly being the spitting image of my mom. Like him, I am quiet. I am stubborn. I am determined. I am focused).

This incredible person, this "goddamn fashion bug" (his words, not mine... HAHA) is my dad, my favorite person in the entire world. By saying that, I don't mean to offend any of the other people in my life who are extremely important to me and who I love like crazy; the other members in my family will always be so so important to me (the MOST important people in the world), and my friends will always be so important to me as well. I have many many places in my heart that will forever be reserved for all of them... but "a place in my heart will always be" my dad's ---- always ---- because he is the greatest person I know.

When I was little, my dad used to do a lot for me. Obviously, being his first daughter, he had to learn how to take care of a girl (especially because his first child was a boy), and he had to learn how to do my hair for me before school; my mom always had to leave for work super early (earlier than my dad had to leave for his work), so she could never help me with it. So my dad, patient and gentle, would help me brush all the knots out of my hair and put it in a ponytail for me. As I got older, he would help me with other things (not my hair anymore, though... ha) ---- things that I will never ever be able to repay him for ---- like decisions about life and what to do with mine. Even when I was confused, scared, or unsure about what to do, he always made sure I knew that whatever decision I made, he would support it; whatever I decided to do, he would help me in whatever way he could, whether that be financially or just advice-wise.

One of the best pieces of advice he has ever given me (and I actually wrote my college admission essay about it) was about running and how to relate it to life on a bigger scale. Back in high school, I once got into a rut about running during my sophomore/junior year. I was scared, nervous, and confused because I was really good ---- the number one runner on the team. But how does it make sense that I was scared and nervous about this?

Well, I was scared and nervous because I heard rumors about what people would say about me: they said that I thought I was "all that" just because I was good; they said that I thought I was better than I actually was. I didn't like that people were saying these things, and I was so confused, because I never EVER acted like I was "all that" ---- if anything, I always tried to be overly modest because like I said in previous blog posts, I hated the spotlight, and I always tried my best to include my team if praise was ever put on just me. I didn't deserve the spotlight ---- nor did I want it ---- and I wish that people knew that.

In talking to my dad about all this, he told me to "just run," to forget about what people were saying, because I shouldn't care about what people were saying ---- what they were saying didn't matter; I mattered. He told me that I should never ever let what another person said about me affect me and keep me from running hard. He didn't just mean in running, though, because he meant that I should never let people's opinions of me affect me so much; no matter what people thought about me, I needed to just keep being myself. No matter what, I needed to keep going through my life ---- I needed to "just run" and push forward, getting done what I needed to get done and working hard. Hard work was important ---- people's stupid opinions were not, because they didn't matter; my opinions did, and what people thought about me said nothing about me and everything about the people that were saying those things.

Since then, he has given me truck loads of advice ---- some small pieces, some big pieces ---- that have made me feel like I can stand on top of the world. His advice has made me feel fearless (despite how scared I always am), like I can do anything and everything that I could ever want if I just put my mind to it and work for what I want (hard work is extremely important, he says, because it shows great character). His advice has added light to my darkness, lightness to my heaviness, and music ---- pretty violin and piano music ---- to my deafening silence. His advice has given me so so much hope and confidence, and it makes me feel like my future can and will be forever bright if I just keep moving forward.

My dad believes in me when I don't believe in myself and tells me things that I can't or won't tell myself: as I've been looking for a job and trying to successfully navigate post-grad life, he has been so patient and encouraging, telling me that I'm going to figure it all out and that everything is going to work out; even though I don't believe in myself, he believes in me. Beyond that, he tells me I am beautiful, that one day, some guy is going to be very lucky to have me as his girlfriend or wife ---- and not just because I am beautiful. He says that some guy is going to be very lucky one day because I am also kind, funny, hardworking, caring, and friendly; he says that I am intelligent, that I am one of the most intelligent people he knows. He says that one day, I am going to not just be a great wife but also a great mother; even though I can't or won't always tell myself these things, he tells me them.

In thinking about my dad, I often think about the day when he is going to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, and in thinking about this, I often feel like I want to cry, because I know that that day is going to filled with such awesome feelings. It's probably weird that I think about this, and it's probably even more weird that I already have the song I'm going to dance to with my dad at my wedding, especially because I don't even have a boyfriend (but is it actually weird? I feel like a lot of girls think and dream about their wedding even when they don't have a boyfriend), but the first time I heard it, that was the first thought that came to mind: this is going to be my dad-daughter wedding dance song.

It's kind of a throwback country song, a kind of country song that is different-sounding than today's country. Released in 2006, it sounds like country used to (because as much as I love country, it can be sort of pop-y sounding these days (i.e. think of "Body Like A Backroad" by Sam Hunt). "I Loved Her First" by Heartland is the perfect dad-daughter wedding dance song for me, mostly because it falls under the country music genre. However, it also tells the story of a father watching his daughter dancing with her husband at their wedding and how he feels about it, which I just love a lot; the father was the one to love her first and hold her first, so he wants her new husband to be careful loving and holding her. The song says that even though the father prayed that she would find that guy someday, it's still hard to give her away ---- because he loved her first.

I can only imagine my wedding day, because right now I'm just focused on current goals that have nothing to do with finding a guy to marry. If I find a guy on my way to reaching these goals, then so be it, but that is definitely not my top priority (and my dad wisely tells me that a guy shouldn't be my top priority right now). I can only imagine walking down the aisle with my dad, and I can only imagine dancing with him to this song and how he's going to feel. I can imagine, though, that this song is going to be a good description of his feelings, because after years and years of taking care of me, he's going have to let some other guy take care of me, too.

My dad really does take such great care of me (and my siblings and my mom). In addition to all the advice he has offered to me, he has helped me out so much financially, especially this past semester ---- my final semester of undergrad ---- when I decided to pay for tuition out of pocket instead of taking out more loans. In these next coming years, I know he's going to selflessly help me out even more (i.e. by once again helping me pay for classes, this time to get my certificate to become a paralegal as I put law school on the back burner for now). He has never asked and will never ask for me to pay him back, because he just wants me to continue to work hard to achieve my goals of becoming a lawyer; he does say with a laugh, though, that when I'm a big shot, successful lawyer one day, then I can pay him back.

He doesn't realize that I don't take this as a joke, because I really do intend to pay him back one day after I get on my own two feet. When I am financially stable, I want to give him back all the money that he has given me. I want to try to repay him for letting me live in his house post-college graduation without paying rent; for letting me use his cars without paying for things like getting the oil changed or the tires filled up with air; for eating his meals without paying for the groceries it took to make them.

I know that I am lucky, because not everyone's dad is this way. Not everyone's dad transforms his whole backyard so that a deck can be built for a pool to be put in. Not everyone's dad builds A FREAKING BAR in his garage, not just for himself to enjoy (it is and always will be his "Man Cave") but so that his kids' friends can all come over and hang out at it, too. Not everyone's dad is like this, and I know I am so so lucky.

I am SO grateful to have a dad who is one in a million.

xoxo,

Mag