A Girl Named Leney

THE JOURNAL

Daddy's Girl




This is one of my favorite pictures of me and my Dad. Unfortunately, at a very young age, I thought it was necessary to cut it into this awkward shape so as to fit it into a very tiny awkward frame. I should clearly have not been left alone with a pair of scissors.
(Also apparent on a separate occasion during which I cut a chunk of my own hair off of my own head. Again, I was very young...)
Anyway.
Today is the day we celebrate our Fathers. And I'd most definitely like to celebrate mine because he is something else.
I love him very dearly and can't really express enough, in any amount of words, what a great Dad he is.
I have so many things to thank him for.
One of which is for instilling in me a love for music. All music. Some of my favorite memories growing up are of my Dad cranking up the speakers really loud and blasting whatever record he was playing at the time (anything from Miles Davis, Frank Sinatra and Al Green to The Cure, U2, New Order and General Public) and grabbing me and dancing around the room (as seen above), swinging and bouncing everywhere and singing along to the music very loudly and passionately.
I always loved it.
Even when I got older and was saying "Dadddyyyyy" in pretend embarrassment.

So Daddy, thank you.
Thank you for always telling me I'm the best, for all those cardboard houses and forts you built, for being obsessed with sailing so we have fun adventures, for instilling in me a love for dancing and music, for pushing me to fight for my dreams and what I want and encouraging me to always do my best, for loving me unconditionally, for teaching me right from wrong, for forgiving me when I did wrong anyway, for being a shoulder to cry to when I needed it and for raising me with a love for my savior who is my ultimate Father and who blessed me with you in the first place.
I love you.
Happy Father's Day.