It was a sunny Friday afternoon, 104 degrees. I’m playing classic rock as my skin is drenched with sun, small stings as my arms tingle in the heat. My dad is mowing the lawn, podcast in his ears, and before I know it the yard is done, the mess is cleaned up and he’s sitting, admiring his work, in a chair on the lawn. ‘A suburban dream’, I thought. And later that day my mother rushes in the house to grab a stepstool, “your dad is saving a baby bird!”, she yells, gone in a flurry out the door. And sure enough from my bedroom window I look down to see my dad, in gloves, cradling a bird that seemingly was stuck, rescued by the hands of Todd. The hands of a man who can’t help but do the good thing, to be of service, to be gentle in subtle ways.
In sarcasm he jokes, “I’m a giver!”, usually when someone asks for twenty bucks, or for the rest of his side of fries. But after his playful protests, he offers whatever was requested, no questions. Because for my dad, the simple pleasure he seeks is for the world, his family, a stranger on the street, to be surrounded in happiness. To him his small acts might seem mundane, but through these minuscule things; a gracious tip, fixing my broken shoe, putting gas in my mom’s car, makes the humdrum of life a little sweeter. Giving whatever he can, if he has it or not, to whoever needs it, is how I learned to be of service. If you have something to offer, anything to offer, it means more to share. To have is a luxury, and Todd knew early on that it feels better to bask in the riches with others, than hide away in greed. Creating a community of giving and receiving, a place to always be well-off.
Since I was a little girl, I never doubted in my mind that he couldn't fix anything. My broken barbie doll, put back together within the hour. A shattered ceramic coffee mug, glued, sanded, and polished, already back and clean in the cupboard. Even recently, my eyes filling with frustrated tears trying to put a shelf together with a broken allen wrench, he did not hesitate to grab his drill and assemble it in a fraction of the time it would have taken me. This sense of relief, my dad as my safety net, whatever is broken, whenever it breaks, I know he is the first to be there, tools in hand. Not just for me, but for my neighbors, who don’t have the strength to do something, or need a quick favor. And not just on a small scale has Todd been helpful. At 5 years old, he’d call me to say goodnight from New Orleans as he helped with search and rescue from Katrina. Or when he would still come home in good spirits after a long night at the fire station, being with those who needed him. People rely on my dad, for good reason, because he is someone worth relying on.
And of course we butt heads, as most fathers and daughters do. Indirectly he taught me how to argue, to make sure I’m always sure of what I’m saying before I say it. But to fight is to reconnect, and we’ll inch our way to an olive branch by talking basketball or playing Led Zeppelin in the car. Regardless of his mood, again he will be the first to open the door to a friend that needs to stay the night, or offer to rearrange his day in case my grandparents need help in the morning.. Always making sure things work out. Ensuring our Thanksgiving dinner at the fire station is nothing short of plentiful. Always having a camera in hand to record us playing around when my siblings and I were little or capturing pictures when it was our first time at Mile High Stadium for a Broncos game. To be a father is to sacrifice, and he does it full of love.
With all of this said, I could talk on and on about Todd. How he’ll strike up a conversation with any passerby he sees, something I see in my brother too. Or how he facetimed me one time just to make me laugh after a tough week. But in the end, I feel very proud to have him as my father. Everything he does is something worth recognition. He would come into my elementary school classes teaching fire safety or during reading week, bringing along one of our bearded dragons. This made me feel pretty cool, because Todd was cool. He’s known to be eclectic, but I admire that nothing will change that. One because he’s stubborn, but also so comfortable in being himself. Two of the many things I’ve learned from him. Or that anything can be finished, riding the wave of motivation first and then relying on willpower. Or that the thing one should cherish most are the people that love you back. And by knowing my dad I know all of this. Because behind the calloused hands and the mustache, his good days or his bad, he always returns back to his heart for helping.
to all the dads, here and beyond,
natalie <3
