Such A Girl

Father's Day weekend was different for me this year versus any of the years that have passed. This year marks my father's last year working. In December 2020 he will officially retire. At almost 65 I see the years weighing more heavily on his shoulders. His sense of responsibility and caring for his family and the extension of his kindness to those who cross his life's path is something I am very fortunate to hold dearly. I recognize that the woman I am today is so much a reflection of my upbringing. The age old question remains, is a person the result of nature or nurture? In my opinion, or at least for me, it is certainly both. As I get older the memories of my childhood become more and more special.

One of the most vivid memories I had was when I was 7 years old. I was studying figure skating and try outs for the competitive team were right around the corner. There were technical elements that had to be completed in order to qualify for the team. I was a terrific spinner, but jumper I was not. I remember one particular practice I had attempted and fallen so many times. My coach kept telling me to try again. I was out of time. I had to try again to get that jump. It wasn't high enough, my leg wasn't straight enough. I fell so many times. A few of the star students were jumping perfectly but so many of us struggled. On my last attempt as I pushed myself to get up my legs shaking, and out of breath I saw my dad walking with his boots onto the ice towards me. The coach yelled at him to get off. He went straight towards me, scooped me up and carried me off the ice. My coach yelled after us but within minutes I was seat-belted in the car. The ride home was silent.

That evening before bed my dad sat on the edge of my bed with arnica cream and applied it to the many bruises on my legs. I started crying. I felt so ashamed at what a failure I was. I didn't know what money was but I knew it took a lot of money for me to become a member at the club. I also knew in my heart I wouldn't make it to the team finals in the competition. I wasn't good enough. Without asking me why I was crying my dad hugged me tightly and told me that I was special and amazing. I looked at him and quietly asked if he wanted me to be a winner. He replied that he wanted me to be safe and happy. Now and in the future. That was his wish. Be safe. Be happy.

As an adult I reflect on that day and recognize how very fortunate I am to have that kind of love and support. The foundation to have the courage to pursue anything I wanted and if I failed knowing that it would be okay gave me the freedom to push my limits, knowing that home was a safe place. Home was unconditional love. I think so many times the fear of failing holds us prisoners to inaction or taking an action that is inconsistent with our heart.

On Father's Day I spent time enjoying coffee with my dad and asked about his plans for retirement. What was he most proud of having accomplished?

He responded, "my daughter Jen, she's such a girl, an amazing girl!"

Dad I'm more proud of you than you will ever know.