I love you, dad.

January 7, 2011. It is my dad's 60th birthday.

I meant to write one of these for my mom's birthday at the end of December but we spent the days after Christmas and until her birthday in Ohio where we did not have internet, and I left my computer at home. So before I continue on I want to give a huge "I love you!" to my mom as well for the way our relationship has changed and grown over the past 22 years. I will most likely commit a post to her another time.

My dad is a writer and a poet, a good one, and I feel this is an acceptable way to express my adoration for him.

The title of my blog is "Shaping Motivation". Often times people lose their motivations over a course of years for the passions they once held. You have been teaching/coaching for 36 years and still love what you do. All of your students feel it and your co-workers enjoy working with such an honorable man each day. When I was younger you juggled being a committed English teacher, a coach of multiple sports, manager of a pizza place, and father of 3 complex girls; all in one day. This blog is titled after the Dalai Lama, but if there were ever anyone that applied his wisdom to their lives it is you. For today, this blog is dedicated for the motivation that is shaped in your heart and that is working itself through mine to be the best in my commitments.


For having three daughters, you always found time to dedicate to each of us to make us feel like we were/are more special than the other two. I could boast for all the soccer games you drove me to, all the times we went over proper positioning on the soccer field with salt and pepper shakers and napkin dispensers in the middle of a restaurant, helping me practice ("Practice, practice, practice. And when you're sick of practicing, keep practicing."), my first guitar, reading over papers and working on science projects, reading to me and staying with me until I fell asleep. Any interest I ever expressed you found some way to encourage it. When I went through my scuba diving phase you bought me a "How To Scuba Dive" book though I never committed to taking any lessons. As I grew an interest in international service trips you said that I needed to take self defense classes first. Just a couple of weeks ago you showed up with a used climbing book for me, and even if you don't realize it it shows me that you are concerned about things I love doing and want to see me succeed no matter what the cause is. I could boast for several things, things that made me feel that I stood apart from my older sisters and that I was the daughter you preferred to hang out with. I could boast for these but I know that you made Brittany and Chelsea feel the same way as they grew up. For this, you are an incredible father.

Your passion and commitment for everything exudes and spreads into others. I have been learning from you since I had short, boy-cut hair and had to almost run to keep up with your stride (which I also tried to copy). I watched you give money to others; some you barely knew, some good friends. One time I think you gave a man you had just met a few dollars because your charisma and care for other people allow others to feel they can confide in you, even in first encounters. I cannot count the number of words I have heard in respect and adoration towards you as a coach, friend, and teacher. Sometimes my only response is to say, "He is the same as a dad too."

I have strived to be as much like you as I could throughout the years. To care for other people. To give to others. To live to my passions. To write. To seek wisdom. To hold a calm heart. To appreciate the things you have been given, good or bad, and to make out of them what best you can. You take things in and look past the superficial. You strive to better yourself even though in my eyes you are perfect. You have shown examples by actions and words.

In high school once when I was teary eyed from a silly break-up you took me in and jokingly said to me, "You only need me in your life anyways." I laughed. As I look back on all my past relationships no guy could stand next to you in character. As I have grown older, it has become more important to me to find someone that will be as good of a man as you are. This makes it difficult sometimes because there really are few like you, but I know in the end it will be worth the wait and the opportunities I will have to grow in my own way.

Thank you, dad, for all of these things. Most importantly thank you for allowing me to realize that even though sometimes I demand independence and to be free-spirited, I will always know that I will make mistakes and need to remain somewhat grounded. Please know that none of my actions in the past have been in vain. I have learned and sought out answers and ways to be a better person for others though I have so much growing still to be accomplished. I recognize and appreciate how difficult it must be for you and mom to step back sometimes and let me continue on, often without direction. As a parent you want to always protect me and I hope I can keep that trust and complete blind faith that I suspect you must have in me, even though sometimes I feel I do not rightfully deserve them.

I love you, dad. For the person you are and for the person I have become because of you.

My sister Chelsea had one of her creative ideas and decided that each of us would write 20 things we love about dad. 20 x 3= 60. This is my 20...I deleted them before he got a chance to read them for his birthday.