Happy Father's Day

I grew up hearing my dad's stories about how he only received a pack of gum for Christmas and sometimes dinner consisted of saltine crackers and ketchup. His family owned a gas station in Chariton, IA so I am well versed in the art of squeegeeing car windows. He taught me how to change a tire and oil filters, to two-step to Patsy Cline, taught me dirty jokes and how to say goddammit. He took me fishing, to the races, used to flip me the bird daily. He'd wake me up by throwing things at my head. He'd dump ice cold water on me while I was in the shower. He told me he dropped me on my head as a baby and that's what my problem was, or else I was adopted. Once after exiting the bathroom he told me that he had my twin but the head came out tapered so he flushed it. I loved every minute of it. But the kicker story that I believed for the longest time was when my parents took me and my sister to the circus. I was just 2 at the time and apparently the elephants went wild and started to stampede and everyone grabbed a loved one and fled the tent. But my father, holding me, stayed behind and watched the mayhem unfold. He was later interviewed on the news about what he saw. That part is true. But for years and years my sister and I believed him when he told us that he had stood in front of those elephants, looked into their eyes and ordered them to stop. And so they did. I remember sitting in the kitchen as a teen and my sister was telling her friend about my father's heroism. My mother said--you know he didn't stop those elephants don't you? It was if a balloon had been deflated. Still, part of me will always believe that he did. Because that's what my father is--a pull my finger jokester, Harley driving, hard working, stubborn and sympathetic, ketchup on his macaroni and cheese eating protector. He showed me how to be lighthearted and to appreciate storms from the garage. When he wasn't making me laugh he was planting little seeds of wisdom and in between there was a lot of time for just being quiet together. Because of him I find messages in the silence. I love you dad, and I wouldn't change a goddamn thing about my childhood.