I have always embraced the title “Daddy’s Girl” perhaps because I also always embraced being a Daddy’s Girl. Dad and I had a way of communicating that was different from anyone else I have ever known. I would listen and show interested in his interests, and he would often (at least pretend to) take interest in mine.
For quite a while, my interest was shopping. It took work and a certain finesse to get my dad to buy something I wanted. I often spent more time convincing him than I did ever enjoying whatever he had bought me. So a lesson in Chaucer may be traded for new shin guards, a discussion on Macbeth translated into a new rain jacket, and a long involved discussion on Faulkner may have resulted in a new pair of pjs for college. We both knew how to work the other. This stayed true throughout my entire life.
Around 45 I remember finally explaining to Mom and Dad that disappointing my dad was the worst thing I could imagine. I don’t know that this is what lead me to teaching for sure, but as I approach my 17th year teaching, I know for certain that I became a teacher largely to be closer to my dad. It just turned out lucky for both of us that it was what we love and were meant to do.
I remember having my dad come visit my class and being so excited to show him off. I also remember seeing him get totally snowed under by a class of third graders. One particular time I had to leave the room for a few minutes to use the bathroom or make a quick copy so I left dad in charge. When I returned literally in less that 5 minutes, the class was wild and dad looked like a matador after he had faced the bull, but he still returned the next week under the stipulating that I never leave the room again! Each new school year, dad would ask me to take pictures of my new students so he could practice their names. My students began to look forward to Mr. Pete’s weekly visits.
I honestly don’t know if I will ever fully grasp dad’s impact on this world. I also have no idea HOW he did it. What I do know is that my dad was authentic and 100% himself my entire life. In doing this he was always humble, kind, and open-minded, learning, caring, growing, and living. What I now know for certain is that my admiration for my dad was not a unique sentiment I felt. Since his death, I have been blown away by the number of people throughout his entire life who admired my dad. Quite honestly, I was a little upset that I had not seen it so clearly when he was alive but that’s exactly what makes him so authentic. Praise wasn’t something he sought. He did the things he did because he felt they were the right things to do. His moral compass was forever stuck in the position of doing what was best for others.
Since so many of you knew him as a great person I thought I would share a little bit of what you may not know. My dad was an amazing dad. He was not perfect, but what always authentic in this capacity as well. He put so much into being a great dad. I look back at pictures from my earliest years and I see a man ecstatic to be a dad, my dad. He was goofy and would put my tights on his head to emulate a rabbit as he read Peter Rabbit to me. He learned everything there was to know about coaching soccer because I needed someone to coach my first team. He was so creative, even if all of his creations were not a success (like green beans and peanut butter). He made mistakes but he always owned them and taught me to do the same.
He was always teaching me without me even realizing I was learning. And he could do this because his enthusiasm for whatever the topic was was contagious. I hope learning continues to be contagious for the rest of my life! That will be one way I hold onto my dad!
– Amy Crow