A few days ago, my father texted me (on his new fancy texting phone) that he was going to be driving past Clinton on his way from Atlanta and asked if he could stop by and take my roommate and I out to dinner.
If you don't know me that well, you must know I am a complete daddy's girl. You must also know that my school cafeteria really loves recycling meat. Often times, yesterdays spaghetti sauce becomes todays meat chili. And finally, you must know that I am sentimental and love cheesy nostalgia.
I was so excited that I was going to get to see my father and eat some real edible food. When he called me to let me know he was in the parking lot, I shoved on my coat and ran the three flights of stairs downstairs. As I ventured into the parking lot, I still didn't see him, until I turned back around and saw him wandering around on the sidewalk.
As I ran towards him, I saw that he had a bright blue PC hat on, that he had obviously just purchased at the bookstore. In that moment, I felt a pang. You know, a pang? That thing that happens in your heart whenever you see your friends doing something for you, a baby sleeping, or a kitten? I hate cats, but kittens are okay, I guess.
I couldn't stop the tears from flowing when he pulled me into a hug. In the arms of the man who taught me how to love classic rock, basketball, and C.S. Lewis, I felt overwhelming sadness and love. I was sad because I'm not his little girl anymore, but instead a sort-of grownup in college. I use the term "grown up" very loosely. I have no distorted notions of my maturity, of course. It seems like only yesterday, I was waiting for him to get home from work so I could fix him fake food in my little plastic kitchen, and today I'm waiting in my dorm room for him to come and visit me at college.
He took me and Joy to Fatz Cafe, which is literally the nicest restaurant in Clinton. Over those addictive poppyseed rolls, I listen to my hero talk about his adventures from his business trip to California. He had taken my grandmother along to visit some cousins, and he laughed as he told us she had requested that they go to the Dr. Phil show, and how the cousins had instead taken her to Laguna Beach.
After dinner, I took him to the art studio to show him my work. I excitedly told him about the good grades I had received, and about the church that I visited and loved. As it was time for him to leave, he handed me a bag of groceries he had bought for me as I started to tear up again. As I hugged him goodbye, I realized how badly I want to make him proud of me, how badly I want to be a worthy daughter.
I realize I write a lot of stories that include me crying. This is because I cry quite a lot. Emotions runs through me so fast that I cannot stop them from pouring out of my eyes and streaming down my face like rain on a windshield. I once asked my beautiful friend Madeline during one of my episodes why I was always so emotional, and she said simply, "Because you have such a big heart."
Darn this big heart. It makes me feel like such a sissy sometimes.
I love you, daddy.
i almost cried.(and you know..)
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