Late Father's Day part 1

Dear new father,

It’s the second day after Father’s day and I still find myself in the awkward position of having no words for this Father’s day post/letter/blog thing. I’m not appreciating the writer’s block at all, because normally these things come quickly and naturally to me. I’ve been writing to the people I’ve loved for years and years. Why is it so hard to with you? I honestly don’t know. I get all tongue-tied, as far as writing to you goes and that’s just ridiculous, because as you know, I never ever have problems talking to you face to face. Ever.

So…what to say? I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I’ve never killed you, even when I’ve had the overwhelming urge to. I think it’s a little awkward that the only reason I first met you was because I was hitting on your friend, but it makes a funny story. Not really cute, but funny. You make me smile, even when I’m pissed as hell at you. You make me think and discover new things about myself, even when I resist with ALL my strength. You continue to try to expose me to horrific music that I have absolutely no interest in and you put up with my music with minimal complaints. You try to make me have a clean room. You can out-logic me at any point during the day (a fact that makes me crazy) but you still know when to keep your mouth shut.

Your friends described you as the most honorable. In this day and age, that’s a rare description, and quite honestly, it’s the first thing that convinced me I liked you. Besides the facial hair. You show me what real forgiveness looks like. You’ve only made me cry a lot. You dance with me. You keep my freaking out over almost everything to a minimal level. I really do like that you make me try new things, even when I’m resisting. You listen when I talk even when I don’t want you to. You make me talk about the hard stuff, the embarrassing stuff and the stuff that makes me want to curl up in a little ball and die. And surprisingly, I am getting better at it. Sort of.

I suppose, to be continued,

Megan