Marked on the Calendar 6/18/2023

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

I remember when I was little my Daddy and I would go out on what we called dates. I don’t remember all the details exactly, but I do very clearly remember most of those dates involved us getting ice cream cones. It could have even been before there was an option of any other flavor of vanilla. As a matter of fact, I think it’s possible that I remember when the option of chocolate, vanilla or the two swirled together became a choice that was available. Daddy always got vanilla because it was his favorite but me, being ever the indecisive one, started getting swirl when it was on the menu.  I am not entirely sure what we talked about on these outings or if we went anywhere or did anything else. I do know that the memory of how much I looked forward to these dates will forever be engrained in my memory. I honestly don’t think that there was very much to them beyond a cone in a drive thru but it was a special time that I felt like the most special girl in the world.  That magical bond that joins a daddy and his daughter was the most important thing for those Friday nights.

Because I do remember just how monumental those days were in my little girl schedule, I don’t get offended when my daughter and her daddy have a similar scheduled event on the calendar.  For them, it is often what we call a “daddy-daughter night” when I am off to do some sort of school or church related whatnot and they will be at home together, just the two of them.  Their activities usually consist of doing puzzle books, putting together Legos, conducting science experiments or playing video games. But I am fine with not taking it personally when my daughter asks me frustratedly why I haven’t left yet so her fun time with her father can begin. I do not hold a grudge when she is annoyed that I am holding up her evening by asking why I am still there.  Yes, in normal circumstances this would be a highly offensive question but no. I remember ice cream cones and special outings and it’s ok. I know the appeal. I remember.  Honestly, being offended is the farthest thing from me. I can’t help but smile knowingly. I remember how much of notable appointment on my little kid calendar it was to do the special things with my own dad.

I asked my dad if he remembered if we did anything more beyond having ice cream. He couldn’t remember but he didn’t think there was more to our dates than that. Which is fine. I was probably in the realm of single digits when it came to age and an ice cream that probably lasted a grand total of maybe an hour was the most monumental moment of my week.  Not that I wasn’t a mama’s girl as well. I loved my mama time (still do).  But my night out (I say night out like it was a long event knowing it was probably just a quick trip through the drive through that took little to no time at all) just made me feel like, and yes, I know it is terribly cliché, but I cannot call it anything else but, well…I felt like a princess.   I knew that for that moment in time, I was the most important thing to my Daddy, and I embraced it wholeheartedly.

I’ll have to say my husband is pulling off the daddy role quite nicely. When my daughter is absolutely giddy to know she has a daddy-daughter night coming up, I’d say he‘s doing a pretty good job. The fact that she cannot possibly rush me out the door fast enough so they can get their fun started speaks volumes.  I like to think that she could have that much fun with me, but, if I’m honest, I cannot say that I am certain that she does. I don’t think I have that dad factor that turns the fun up to an exponential level. But no, I won’t hold it against anyone. I guess I have my mom positives. I don’t know that I know exactly what said positives are at this point and time, but I’m sure they’re there.  But it isn’t Mother’s Day. Today is the day that the Daddies of the world get to revel in their little boys and get up to mischief or enjoy their little girls and build the best of fairytales.  I was there. I lived it.  As simple as it was it came straight from a storybook for me.  My daughter is getting to enjoy a far higher level of enchantment with the most fun evenings with her daddy than I could have possibly imagined. My Daddy did a fantastic job, mind you. Have you read in previous blogs about the wooden She-ra sword that he carved me?  My husband though, is at liberty to be downright excessive with things and does so with gusto.

But no matter how subdued our activity, my Daddy and I had an utterly splendid time.   When a Daddy truly puts that love and devotion into time with their kids, I don’t know that even the most mundane of enterprise becomes something that is looked forward to for days and weeks.  It’s all in the thought behind the plans. It could be nothing much to speak of, but when he is making that extra special effort to devote time to the child, often times doing things he really couldn’t care less about doing, that thing happens that tilts the planet on its axis.  I still remember it and I am far from young.  These efforts leave an indelible mark on the mind. Daddies making conscious and specific efforts make permanent marks on the memory. Mothers are always there tending and loving but when a Daddy does it, I can’t even think of the appropriate adjective.  This is what love feels like. It is what love looks like.  And both children and parents will forever be changed because of those purposeful intentions. Kids know when efforts are made.  And dads, well, when they contribute those endeavors, they just get to reap the rewards.