I will always be daddy's girl, even when I'm no longer a girl. But for now, I will be 31 years old in two months and I still feel more like a girl than a woman. As much as I look like my mom, personality wise I'm the female version of my father. My father has always been a trucker. When we were little kids, we used to love hearing my father tell stories about the new places he had gone to. I savoured the story of the time he went to New York City; I was fascinated. For him it was the trip from hell, driving an 18 wheeler in Manhattan. Maybe hearing all those travel stories is one of the reasons I got hooked on traveling. Oh and did I mention that for years my mom was a travel agent?
Growing up, I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my father. He has always been a long-haul trucker, and sometimes he was gone for up to two whole months. Therefore, the little time we got to spend with our father was really precious. It still is, it's always been, except maybe those few teenage years when it's easy to take certain people and things for granted. This is my favourite Dad & Me memory:
I was 16 or 17 years old. I don't remember where my brother and mom were, but I remember expecting to have the house to myself that Friday night. I had invited Lison and Bobby over after school; they brought their guitars and beer. We were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, playing guitar (them), and singing (me). All of a sudden, I see my father's 18 wheeler appear in the picture window, followed by the sound the truck made when it was backing up in our driveway.Well, the sound it made backing up in general. When my brother was little, he used to try doing the sound: "cu-lee cu-lee cu-lee cu-lee!", and tat would make my dad laugh.
Oh.Shit! I'm going to be in SO much trouble!!
My father came in the house, we all said Hello! to each other. He walked down the hall, into their bedroom. He came back in the kitchen holding his guitar and grabbed a beer on the way. He sat down and started jamming with us. My dad and I continued jamming long after Lison and Bobby left. Music is a passion that we share. To me, that was the night that my father told me with no words, that I was growing up and that he was okay with that.
Another big thing that my father and I share: shyness. It's nearly 10pm and I haven't had the courage to call my him yet to wish him a Happy Father's Day.
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