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| Me and my handsome dad at Universal Studios |
There are too many precious moments and unforgettable experiences shared with my father to document in one blog entry, but as we celebrate Father’s Day, there are a few specific instances that I remember and look fondly on:
I was in the second or third grade and an avid fan of Debbie Gibson. Nights were spent jumping up and down to her energetic hymn Electric Youth, or singing her ballad Lost in Your Eyes emotionally to my Ken doll. (Or was it the stuffed bear substituting as a Ken doll? I don’t think my mom even let me have a Ken doll at all.) I was over the moon with excitement when I found out that she would be performing in an open field concert a few towns away from ours. My classmates and I eagerly planned what we would wear, ways that we could find each other in the crowd, and how we would get Debbie Gibson’s attention from far, far away. Nearing the concert, however, there was a hurricane forecast. As my classmates backed out of our plans one by one, I held steadfast to my dreams of seeing my idol in the flesh.
My dad picked me up after school on the day of the concert, asking me if I still wanted to push through despite the weather forecast and the ominous gray skies. “Let’s do it,” I declared passionately, fastening my seatbelt. He gamely drove on. The rains poured, but on we went. The rains grew stronger but still, on we went. We were at a turnpike and at nearly zero visibility when my father stopped. He asked me quietly, and ever so gently, if I still wanted to go on. I looked out and saw sheets of rain pouring down, the lights of other cars an ever so distant blur. The only thing to do was turn back. My mouth quivered as I said we could go back home, then I abruptly burst into tears.
