"Don't think "feel" ... "

For as long as I can remember my dad has been my hero. Even before I could remember ma would tell me stories of how dramatically I wept, every time I would catch him leaving me for work. And I mean full on, ugly cry, gripping onto his leg for dear life kind of drama. He was my safety net. He was the one person I could count on to let me lose my cool without joining in on my inevitable terrible two's, toddler, preteen or teenage freak outs. He would just listen, tell me I was right (or wrong), and let me learn. I could reflect and change my mind without feeling judged. I could hold my ground and be angry without being guilted. I could be a whole and complete human, inconvenient and unpredictable. 

I remember watching him and wanting to be just like him. Taking on his slang, studying his interests in my free time, and constantly asking him questions. He was always willing to explain himself. A quality I quickly realized was rare and uncommon. I remember asking him why it made people so upset that i was always asking why. "People don't like being interrogated, babygirl." he said, 

We picked apricots and talked for hours about the pressure most people feel when you ask them questions they've never asked themselves. When someone asks you "what were you thinking?!" and you haven't been thinking, you feel caught. If you understand your own thought process no one can catch you off guard. He advised me to never make a decision without knowing my why. 

He is the reason in many of my interactions with men there is a voice in my head that says, "my father would never". A voice that has made my romantic escapades either short lived or deeply nurturing for their duration. He is the reason my faith is so much greater than my fear, my self discipline is so strong, and my femininity is so soft. He taught me how to do everything from changing my own tire alone on the side of the road in the dark of night in the pouring rain while remaining calm and collected; to gracefully and while overflowing with gratitude, let the men do the heavy lifting. 

He is the reason my standards are so high when it comes to friendship. I've seen him give more away to friends in need than I have yet to earn in this lifetime. Clothes, cars, money, furniture, it was all just stuff. Things that could be replaced. He never hesitated, not once. Every time he would give me something he'd say, "As long as you got one, we all got one." My dad is the king of sharing is caring. He taught me about the deeper meaning of community. He taught me the value of good karma. "Life gives to the givers and takes from the takers: and keeps a very accurate account book." He is more than just my dad, my pop, my father. He is my protector, teacher, trainer, friend, therapist, guru, and biggest fan. He is the reason I believe I can save the world. The reason I believe one single person can make a ripple that changes everything.

He was the first person to just witness, listen, allow, and offer. He is the person I try everyday to be like. My father was not a healer, he was the kind of person you went to to activate your ability to heal yourself. He would see the good in you and bring it out. Who wouldn't want to be like that?

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♥ inspired by the Full Moon in Cancer + Capricorn Season ♥