The truth about Dad

I desperately wanted to see Michael Watson play on his senior night, my junior year of high school. I had followed the UMKC basketball team and watched Mike Watson lead the team in scoring all year. I vividly remember being completely devastated when I got grounded for not doing the dishes and missing out on that game I was really looking forward to. I thought to myself, I will never forgive you for this one, Dad.

It began with scenarios a lot like that, and even though I had idolized my dad for years, my attitude toward him slowly began to shift. I was 16. He was rolling into his mid-forties. We were both surrounded by people who loved us, but lost. The excruciating month of watching my mother die propelled us both into new responsibilities and paths neither of us expected. 

But tragedy is tricky. It brought my whole family together, and then I watched as we all fell apart. The truth is, I couldn't wait to run away to college and escape all of it; The disagreements, the arguing, and the ridiculous expectations. His relentless schedule never seemed out of the ordinary when my mom was alive, but suddenly his long hours spent away seemed hateful and heartless. I couldn't understand how he could be spending so much time with his job, his baby, really.

The next five years weren't a walk in the park, and even though I was away at college our relationship was still heavily strained. I spent one summer at home and vowed to never do it again. But jobless and hopeless, I returned home when I graduated. I'll be honest; It was a miserable nine months. I sometimes couldn't even believe I was related to him. I desperately wanted to make enough money to move out on my own.

But we grow up and we learn to see the big picture. Even my dying mother's words didn't really click with me until nearly ten years later. "See the big picture. Sometimes the details aren't as important." I watched my dad make, what may have been, the hardest decision of his life a few years ago. Although he maintained professionalism to the general public, I saw him tormented by his choices: Stay and watch his baby die or leave, let his baby live, and create new opportunity. When he followed his heart, for all the right reasons, he was criticized and ridiculed by none-other than...the baby, and a whole bunch of people he raised and loved. 

This scenario seemed eerily familiar to me. It sounded a whole lot like our relationship the seven years leading up to that time. I had a breakthrough within that experience, where I let myself forgive him for all the ways I thought he wronged me, all the things that were said that you can't unsay, and all those times I thought I needed him and he wasn't there. Because the truth about my dad is, he isn't perfect. He's made mistakes every day for the past 50 years of his life, just like the rest of us. But it's a life that has made such an impact on so many people that I can't even fathom it.

I saw that this past weekend when the KC Sports Commission honored him with the "Community Champion" award. Now everything makes a lot more sense, especially the time he dedicated to work. My dad has launched hundreds of careers including mine and several of my friends, been an advocate for the "little guy", jumped through hoops for others to keep their jobs, not-only accepted the new, but embraced them. He's spent countless hours away from home to raise his other family. He's done it without boasting or drawing attention to himself. 

I got to thinking about what a unique experience I had growing up being my father's daughter. I got to hangout with professional athletes, meet important people, and travel throughout the United States by my dad's side. I learned a lot of hard lessons being his daughter. I had to work hard, earn my respect, and...do the dishes (even with whooping cough). Tough love. I know we won't always see eye-to-eye, but I'll always respect him. I'm proud to call him my dad.

Here I am, and I find myself strangely defensive of a man I complained so much about growing up. And although I'm an easy-going type of girl, I find myself closest to legitimate anger when i think about the thanks and recognition he'll never receive. I believe that you work hard to create your own success. My dad taught me that. But even the old are young and stupid. We're all naive in thinking we're just that good, that it didn't take someone seeing our potential to get us to where we are today. 

You see, the truth about my dad is, he isn't perfect. But the truth is, he is good. I'm not just saying that because he's good at what he does, or because he's a good dad, husband, and brother. He's good because despite the bad times, the mistakes, the trials, his heart has always been in the right place and he has searched for the good in and for people. You're better and I'm better because of it. 

And I just wanted to let you know Dad, that I love you and I forgive you for not letting me see Michael Watson play in his senior game, although I'm sure he may never recover.