Today, I want to be thankful for my dad.
My dad who tirelessly supports me and always makes me laugh. My dad who works so hard and teaches me what it is to work for what you want. My dad who constantly inspires me to be better and believe in myself.
When I was 10, my dad picked up and together we rode across the state of California. He cheered me on on the days when it was so windy I thought I would fall off my bike. He shielded me from the downpouring rain. He helped me up the huge hills and supported me through the finish line. He kept me laughing when my legs were burning and I didn’t want to ride anymore.
And if that doesn’t become a metaphor for my dad supporting me through the rest of my life, I don’t know what will.
When my mental health was at the lowest point it’s ever been (thus far), my dad was right there to cheer me on. When I thought college would always be a miserable chore, my dad helped me up to better things.
He was always there for me, and I know he always will be.
And when my best friend from my childhood’s dad died this past week, my dad was right there to keep me standing when it felt like the floor had dropped from beneath me. My dad was right there to share good stories about him and make sure to keep me laughing through my mournful tears.
And that’s what he always does for me, my mom, my sister, everyone.
When the floor goes missing, or I feel like I can’t do something, or I feel like I’m failing at something, or when I just need someone to be there for me, my dad is there.
He never makes me feel inadequate, or like I’m not good enough. He never makes me feel like I am missing a piece of myself, or like I’m lost. My dad always makes sure I know who I am. My dad always makes sure I can hold myself together. My dad always makes sure I’m found.
My dad always makes sure I cross the finish line.