Today is my Dad’s 54th birthday. I wanted to take this opportunity to give my Dad a shout out via the blog and tell him how very much I love him. Amanda could have easily written her own version of this post but she gets to relay all this in person since she is celebrating him in the flesh in Houston.
I have been especially tenderhearted about my Dad recently because a good friend of mine lost her precious Dad this year to an unexpected heart attack. To say it took me by surprise is an understatement. I stood as a bridesmaid in her wedding. I saw her Dad’s mouth gaped wide open when he saw her in a stunning white gown. I watched the two of them dance together and took notice of the way his eyes twinkled when he spun her around like a princess. It was a special wedding for me, not just because it was the most gorgeous wedding I’ve ever seen in my life, but coincidentally, I had asked my own Dad to attend this wedding with me as my date. I was single at the time and didn’t want to deal with the hassle of asking a date my own age and so Dad drove all the way to another state, rented a hotel, threw on a suit, and went along with me. He and I made all kinds of sweet memories that weekend which still exist so tangibly in my heart, especially in light of this past year.
I love my Dad for so many reasons. For example, I love that when I check any given voicemail that he has left me, I know exactly what he’s going to say:
“Hey kid, how ya doin? I’m not sure what time it is where you are, but it’s __ o’clock, Texas time, the only time that really matters.”
I love that it hurts his feelings and plunges him into all kinds of little guilt trips when I don’t call him at least once a week. At least I know he cares about what I’ve been up to. I love that when he goes on a fishing trip, I will undoubtedly receive a photo in my inbox with details of his conquest. If you don’t believe me, here is proof:
Even though I know good and well he caught all the fish in the photo, I typically respond with something like, “I can’t believe Craig (his best friend and fishing partner) caught all those fish! Craig is an amazing fisherman!” Then Dad laughs and we do it all over again the next time he goes fishing.
My Dad is not a perfect man but he is a dang good Dad. About as good as Dads get, I think. And as he often says, he’s the only one I’ve got.
And because photos say it best . . .
We’ve been quite the pair right from the start. Both a little bit on the irritable side
Just hanging out . . .
He was apparently the only one who could stand me! Look how cranky I look! (I’m grinning, Mom!)
Also, he must have really felt sorry for me since Amanda was SOOOO much cuter and sweeter than me. He’s always had a heart for the underdog. One of my favorite things about him.
Dad and His girls at Christmas . . . Dad had “Santa” come surprise us on Christmas Eve one year. This picture makes me laugh because Amanda looks super terrified but, even still, she is literally hugging Santa’s face off. Maybe she’s secretly trying to strangle him?
Dad was chasing me down the street from an early age . . .
P.S. I think little plaid shorts must have been cool for men this particular year . . . ?
On my sixteenth birthday Dad told me that it just wasn’t the right time for me to get my own car. I was beyond heartsick. A few weeks later, Mom invited a group of my friends over for pizza before we all headed out to play some sand volleyball one summer afternoon. As we were walking out the door, I heard the beautiful sound of a loud roaring engine in the distance and then I realized he was driving up to the house in my dream car. He and I had seen this car a month prior to this particular day but Dad made up a story and told me that the owner had refused to sell his gorgeous antique car to a teenage girl. So here is Dad surprising me with my first car when I was 16 years old- a 69 Camaro Z28! Midnight Blue with White Racing Stripes. Snapshots will never do this moment justice. Ever. My grandma is in the passenger seat.
When I realized that he was driving up with my “new” car, I fell to my knees and started bawling. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Mom captured the moment.
These old scanned photos do not exemplify how stunning and ridiculously awesome this car was in 1998. I was the only girl at Langham Creek High School who passionately wanted a 69 Camaro for her first car. I’ve evidently always been bizarre. Dad and I loved that car so much. The Camaro had a four speed manual transmission and just hours after this photo was taken, Dad screamed at me until I learned how-not-to-drive like the sixteen year old girl I very much was. One of my favorite memories is when he and the other dads on our street woke up early the next morning and were taking turns peeling out up and down the street.
The sad day we had to sell the Z28 . . . I was devastated. I was heading off to Baylor the next month and Dad thought it was best for me to have a more practical car that actually had air conditioning. It was for the best but it was still sad. We ended up selling it for more money than we bought it which made the day bearable!
Sad day, continued.
The two of us on the Langham Creek High School Homecoming Court, Fall 1999.
The Four-Moores in France around 2001 or so . . .
Dad and me in Jackson Hole in 2007 . . .
A Daddy’s Girl . . . 2008.
July 4th 2009. A Dad with his girls at Gaido’s.
Dancing to “My Girl” at Colin’s and my wedding . . . I wish this picture were of better quality but you get the idea. We went to dance lessons to get this moment right! It was such a blast! If you look closely, you’ll notice that Dad had changed into his Wranglers for this moment. Some things never change.
Me on my Wedding Day with my First Love. Tall, Dark, and so very Handsome.
I love you, Daddy. I’m so grateful for your life and love for our family. Thanks for making so many of our dreams come true. Here’s to many more years and many more memories. Even though I already have more than an eternity’s worth of priceless memories with these 27 years of being your daughter, a million more lifetimes would never be enough.