Landslide

If there is just one thing I want you to know it’s that we are more alike than anyone could ever imagine. We know we can climb mountains, if not climb them, then we can surely move them. We know to take most things with a grain of salt. We know how to tell the character of a man, by the way he looks--if it’s at the ground, that’s not good, if it’s in your eyes, that’s just a start. We know the cost of love. We know the cost of addiction. We know we can’t run away, but we can walk away for some breathing room. We know we have a temper, and people don’t deserve what we sometimes do or say. We also know that if they can’t take us at our worst, they don’t deserve our best. We know that you can break a man’s back, but not his pride, and definitely not his spirit. We know the good ones die young, so you can afford to be a little bad. We can’t believe in luck, just fate; if we believed in luck, we’d have nothing but the worst of it. We know there are the cars you drive, the cars you love to drive, and the cars you live to drive. We know good music, and if it has a guitar, it’s probably worth listening to. We know you can never give up on a dream. We know failure only makes you appreciate your success. We know we can only be ourselves, and nothing anyone else wants us to be. We know we can build our world up, and a landslide can bring it down.
Since I was a little girl, I can remember being “daddy’s little girl“. I remember hearing: “let her do what she wants”, “let her get what she wants”, “let her wear what she wants”, “What do you want? That’s all?”, and “You can be anything you want to be!” I remember all of those little sayings that may have been insignificant to you, but they meant the world to me.
I remember whatever I did, no matter what, it always seemed to amaze you. I’m not sure if that was an act, or if I really stole your admiration. Whether I wanted to be a fashion designer, and put on a fashion show of old clothing items I’d collected to bobby-pin and paper-clip together. A pro BMX bike rider, and used my pink and purple bike just to pop a small wheelie, and ride with no hands for a millisecond. Whether I wanted to be a surgeon, and played a mean game of Operation. Or an Olympic ice skater, and rolled around on your hard wood floors trying to do triple axles. Whether I wanted to be a professional fisher-woman, and had to have that $200 pole, just to fall asleep in my chair. Or a restaurant owner, and would demand you order something, even when you were too busy. You always went along with me, for whatever adventure I was up for. You would smile and say, “Yep! That’d be perfect for you! You can be anything you want to be.” I also remember you saying, “This is my little one, she’s going to be something. It will change again tomorrow, but she’s going to be something someday.” You stressed that word so hard, something, like it didn’t matter what it was, but it was going to make you the proudest father in the whole world.
I believe because of you and your willingness to let me be whoever I wanted to be, wear what I wanted to wear, and do whatever struck my interest, that you made me who I am today. I’m still the same, I easily pick up new things to try on for size. If I don’t like them, well then it was an exploration, and if I do, then it’s probably going to be a part of my career. I’m everything I want to be, and not anything anyone else.
If there is one other thing I could tell you, it’s a reply to the statement you made right before you walked me down the aisle, “If you get a divorce, I’m gonna kill you.” I think this might ease your mind, I won’t get a divorce, Dad. I won’t get a divorce because I found the one man that can stand up to me, the person you help create. He can easily look a person in the eye. He never sugar coats, and he takes things with a grain of salt. He knows a mountain isn’t immovable. He has a temper, and he knows people don’t always deserve what he does or says. He knows not to bank on luck, and that it‘s ok to be a little bad sometimes. He knows a wicked ride when he sees one, and what powers it, and he’s actively looking for that car he lives to drive. He even knows good music! But, most of all he lets me just be me. He let’s me pick things up just to try them on for size, and always says “Yep, that‘d be good for you.” I have his full support, and unconditional love, just like another man I know. I hope that eases your mind, because it eases mine.
So, this one’s for you daddy--I want to be a writer, a photographer, a yoga instructor, a professor, a mechanic, and the best daughter, wife, mother, and woman I could ever be. You taught me what to know, and what to throw out with the trash. You helped me be confident in myself, and all of my work. You taught me to appreciate my world I built, and to know that at any moment, a landslide could bring it down.