June 18, 2006 @ 5:17 am | Filed under: Uncategorized

"Don’t do it, Staci." My mother’s voice, tight with anger and hurt, followed me as I made a bee-line for the back door. "Don’t you dare walk out that door. Your dad said to wait here until he got home so he can talk to you."

Her words buzzed around my ears as I stalked into the garage and yanked open the car door.

It was 1984 and I was a junior in high school, proudly – if not a bit cockily, working my first part-time job as a sales clerk at Barrett Shoes. I was also a sixteen-year-old girl who’d just had an argument with her mother, and now was openly defying her by leaving the house anyway.

On some level way down deep in my emotion-driven teen-aged heart I surely knew that the decision I was making wasn’t the smartest. I mean, really, how could this end well? But, with typical sixteen-year-old rationale, I countered these thoughts with, Yeah? Well, what’s the worst that could happen?

As I peeled out of the driveway and headed across town to Barrett’s I didn’t allow my mind to dwell on the particulars of what my actions might cost me. After all, I had an important job to get to! I didn’t have time to wait for my dad to get home from his own job and then give me whatever lecture my mom might suggest to him that I needed. What did they think I was, anyway?  A kid?

By the time I reached the store and clocked in, the episode with my mom was nothing more than a bad memory. She’d be over it too by the time I returned home after working my five hour shift. It was only a stupid argument, certainly not worthy of the big deal she’d made out of it.

For about forty-five minutes I luxuriated in this knowledge. Yeah, maybe I had smarted off one too many times today. I probably would need to apologize at some point about that. I was just grateful that it was all behind me now. When I got home we’d make up and all would be back to normal.

Or not.

I was in Women’s Shoes – sizes 7 and 8 – when I glanced out the front window of the store and saw a very familiar looking car pull into the parking lot. My stomach knotted as I took a few steps to get a better view, and then it plummeted like a rock as my dad emerged from the car.

Even from my place on Aisle Three I could see the anger that had his features pulled taut, his mouth set in a firm, grim line and his fists clenched as he strode with purpose to the door.

My mind ran the gamut in those few seconds – everything from considering the possiblity of running to the store room and hiding out there until he left to faking an upset stomach and running to bathroom clutching my tummy.

That last one wouldn’t have been much of a stretch at this point, anyway. I did indeed feel very sick.

But I stood still, knowing that to flee would only be to prolong the inevitable. I’d not seen this look on my dad’s face too often, but I did know enough about it to know that I’d crossed the line this time. Still clutching a box of Size 7 brown wedges to my chest I eased toward the front of the store.

He saw me immediately and we locked eyes. I saw his mouth tremble just ever so slightly and my heart broke. This was my dad, and I was his princess, and my act of defiance had hurt him.

"Do you want to come quietly?" His voice was low and carefully measured, his eyes steady and unwavering. "Or shall we make a scene?"

I went quietly, needless to say.

Today, over two decades later, I can honestly say I have no clue what my mom and I argued about that day, and I have no idea what happened in the minutes and hours and days after my dad’s surprise visit to my shoe store.

But I learned a lesson that day. A lesson only a dad that truly loves you can – or will – give.

Now that I’m the mom of two teenagers myself, I see and understand a whole lot more than I did way back then. I applaud my dad for having the courage to parent me when it would have been much easier for him to wait at home for me. Back then I was humiliated that he had the audacity to pull me out of my job in front of my coworkers and my boss. Now that I’m a parent I know that he felt all that same humiliation plus some.

So thank you, Daddy, for loving me enough to do the right thing.

Happy Father’s Day.

________________________________

God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle’s flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so, He called it … Dad

__________________________________

Check out these great Father & Child photos taken all over the world. Very neat.