Friday, June 13, 2008
Remembering Dad On Father's Day
Maybe it's just me, but lately I find myself wanting to be more like my dad. More than I already am. Like, in things I say and do, my passion to write, or when I tap my fingers on the table to the rhythm of some song. Just little things that I've been noticing. Maybe you noticed them long before I did.
Dad did the best he could for us, and I know, without a doubt, that he truly loved mom and us. I have discovered lately that as my children grow, I see a little more of dad in me, and I find myself thinking back on those days when I was his young child, and then I say to myself, "Okay here's what he would do if he were me."
I like it when people say, "Your dad had the best voice on the radio." Or, "There'll never be another Darrell Speck." I don't want to ever be compared to dad on the radio, because there is no comparison. He was the best. It's hard enough knowing that I've already been in radio longer than he was. That just isn't right. Years after he retired, hardly a week went by that someone didn't say they missed hearing dad on the radio. I miss him on the radio, too. I try to pattern myself after him, but I learned years ago that I can't do it like he did it.
Dad is in my eyes, my heart and soul, my hands, my voice, my love for writing and singing. He is there. One day, when I was 11, my 9-year-old brother, Ronnie, and I were on the back porch, he on the drums and me on the piano, and we were hammering away at the song, Proud Mary. I caught a glimpse of dad peeping through the curtain over the door. I don't know how long he had been there before I spotted him, but when I turned a second time he was still there, and he was smiling.
Those 'dad shoes' are hard to fill. As long as J.D. is alive, my dad will never die. His looks, his actions, are my dad. Just take a look at the photo above. That is dad at age 12, the same age J.D. is now. Replace his red hair with J.D.'s blonde hair and you have J.D. Overall, I hope I made my dad proud. I was proud of him, and I love him and miss him a lot. I hope that, in the end, my children will be able to say they were proud of their dad.
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