Let me first say this: my father is not an especially affectionate man. I can probably count on one hand the number of times in my adult life he has — unprompted — told me that he loves me.
Add one more to the list.
I had ordered Frontline refills from the internet for once, because it seems like I never have time to swing by the vet’s to pick up refills. The price was on par with what I pay with the vet anyway, but it came to my door. While placing the order, I saw that they were selling those little wristbands like Lance Armstrong made popular. They say I SAVED A PET, and the proceeds go to various pet charities.
So I bought a five pack, and sent my donation to a greyhound rescue in Florida.
Yep… that’s it. A little blue bracelet.
My parents each got a bracelet — I sent my father’s home with mom. And completely forgot about it.
A few days later, my phone rings, and it’s my dad.
That in itself was a big surprise, he doesn’t usually just call to say hello. If he’s got something to tell me, he tells my mom to tell me.
But the little blue bracelet was enough to move him to pick up the phone himself and say thank you. He said he wore it to bowling the night he got it (bowling is a big deal for Dad). He asked me about where I got them and why I got them. And then he said it.
“Don’t think I don’t love you, just because you make me crazy.”
Awww, thanks, Dad.
Our love of dogs may very well be our strongest bond. The two of us really couldn’t be more different. He is very conservative; I am very liberal. He hates change; I thrive on it. But we both love dogs, and we both are very proud of the fact that we have rescued various dogs. We love each others’ dogs just as much as we love our own. My father will come to the house, get on the floor and play with my dogs, laughing and smiling, and say barely ten words to me.
But maybe he showers that affection on my dogs, since he can’t quite do it to me.