The Brightest Star

To my dad, who has given me the greatest gift. You chose me. You chose my sister. Most importantly, you CHOSE me. Those dreadful years of foster care, the horrific cycle of house switching, and the many applicants who only wanted my sister...you chose me. You saw me for who I was and welcomed it with open arms. You brought us to your home where we could stay for good. There was no shortage of love or care towards me.

I struggled with our new arrangement, and the new family members involved. You saw how my sister welcomed all things within this new life you gave us, and how mom doled out affection at every chance. You saw me struggle and stepped forward. You could see it. You could see me. You were the only one who ever saw me for who I was and what I needed. Where my sister wanted hugs and kisses, you gave me a pat on the shoulder and a smile. Where my sister was happy to pick out a toy or treat, you gave me patience in my trepidation to indulge myself.

It was my first birthday in your home that I remember most vividly. I was now five years old and mom wanted to wake me up with a large cake and presents. You knew I didn't want that, nor would I ever. It was you who convinced her to wake me up with a cupcake and my very first birthday present. A book. A single book no longer than ten pages.

Did you know I still have it?

I keep it on my bookshelf because I know that despite mom writing it was from both of you, in truth the book was your idea. Because you knew. You understood. So I cherish that book, not because it was the very first present I had gotten, but because it was your idea.

You were there for me in so many ways after this birthday. Whether it was my first day of school or a sports activity my sister and I had signed up for, you were there. You gave the typical, loud encouragement any dad gives their child. Yet, I could see it. I could see how you kept it simple with me. I could see how you made sure it wasn't such a huge deal in front of other people. I struggled with them and you knew this.

No matter what it was, you were there to make sure I wasn't overwhelmed.

I was so grateful for your efforts as I grew up. I did my best to repay you. So when mom became sick, and her diagnosis was confirmed, I tried to step up as well. I cleaned up the house constantly and did all of my homework. I never complained when you were gone for several days while mom had treatments. I took care of my sister for you, becuase I knew. I knew you were struggling and you needed care too.

We shared one moment together when mom died. One first that has never been repeated to this day.

We both saw each other cry for the first time.

While I saw you as a man who didn't shed tears, you saw me as a daughter who allowed those walls to come down just this once. It was an awful time for everybody, but I have held onto that memory because I couldn't stand to know you cried. I tried my best to help you, the family, and my sister. I tried my best, even though those very same family members quietly blamed me for mom passing.

You don't know about this. I made sure you never knew. It would hurt you and I couldn't have that.

You knew I wasn't affectionate. You knew sentiments made me uncomfortable. Someone like me, with someone so loving and affectionate like mom, didn't mix well. I was, still to this day, an incredibly neutral person. I am not emotional nor do I reply any sentiments thrown at me.

This was okay and still is. It's fine because you knew, and still do to this day.

After that, you raised two girls on your own. We were young. We were about to enter such a delicate stage in our lives where having a mother would have hepled. Yet, you were prepared and took it all in stride. There wasn't an outburst you couldn't handle. There wasn't a single bad choice or decision that you weren't prepared to discuss. No, there was enough love and understanding to make up for the loss of a parent.

You have provided so much for my sister and I over the years. Incredible family vacations, presents, and outings. You attended every one of my sister's performances. You never, not once, missed a single soccer match or cross-country meet for me. No. You were there for everything, no matter how busy the schedule was.

Do you remember my high school graduation?

The family wanted to throw a huge party for me and invite everyone who knew you or them to come. However, you shot the idea down immediately, because you knew. You knew I struggled with crowds. You knew I didn't want people hugging or touching me. No. You knew I wanted a small celebration with those I chose to invite aside from family. You knew exactly what I wanted and made sure a memorable day was given to me.

However, we all know that 18-year olds make stupid choices with our new -found freedom. You knew I was making a terrible choice when I agreed to marry someone I just met. You knew that, despite me growing pregnant, I had no need to marry. I would have been fine and that I had other options. You knew, but said nothing, because you wanted me to learn from my mistakes the adult way.

I have never told you, but I have always appreciated your lack of effort in helping me.

I appreciate it because you never left. You were always still there, waiting and willing to talk. You were there when your first grandson was born to welcome us back into the house.

You were there when I was moved to England with my husband. Every day I called you, and every day, you answered.

You were there when I divorced him and flew back to the states. I had another grandson for you to finally meet as you, once again, welcomed us into the house.

I tried hard to get a job so I could help out. I was already 24 so I was going to pay my way. You were there to help me find a good daycare while I worked 30 minutes away. You were there to pick the kids up when I couldn't leave work in time. You were there to watch them so I could have just an hour or two of alone time. You were there for outings with them, on their first day of school, when they or myself grew sick, you were there.

Never, in my entire 25 years of being your daughter, have you ever given up on me. We have a dynamic I would never wish to lose. You are someone I can bicker with and us both laugh. You are someone I can talk to at any point. We already talk on the phone every day while you're at work. On the weekends, I'll come down and we just talk or have some playful banter.

So, I need you to understand, that I would never be the person I am today if it wasn't for you. You allowed me to be myself, nurtured me to be nothing more than myself.

You knew. You have always known.

I'm 30 now. Your grandsons are seven and nine. The three of us are still at your house. You will retire in a few short months and I worry.

I worry because I'm struggling to find a job. I worry because you have asked for financial help after retirement and I won't be able to provide. I worry that I may not find a good job after I graduate this year so that I can help pay the bills.

I worry that I will fail at repaying you for everything you have done.

I'll try my best though. I'm trying now. I won't stop either, not until I know that I can give you money and split the bills with you. No until I know that I am financially stable enough to treat you for once.

Because you are everything to me. You are the reason I went back to get my degree. After all you have ever done for me, it's time that you now sit back and relax. It's time I take care of you.

You deserve it. You gave me the greatest gift of having you as a father.

You are the mentor. You have been a mentor to so many people in your life. I can't recall how many I have met, but I know that first and foremost, you were a mentor to me.

You chose me. You saw me, knew me, gave me what I needed.

So thank you, for being my dad.

I have never said 'I love you' out loud to you. You never onced forced me to say it back. You knew. You saw me show the sentiment instead.

Thank you for understanding.

Thank you for knowing.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being my dad.

So, here is my gift to you, long overdue.

I love you dad.

I love you and always have. I may not say it, I may rarely show it, but here and now, I will say it proudly.

I love you dad.