Dearest Daddy Maddy, For as long as I can remember when I have asked you what you want for a holiday your answer has been the same: something unique, handmade, just a little something one-of-a-kind and priceless and then you smile and I give up and get you a book or a cactus or that one time I bought you a framed rattlesnake skeleton, never a tie because you are not a tie kind of dad. No, you are not a golf tee dad, or a dad who would like an 18" model of a Chris Craft boat. You are a dad that defies magazine editorials in June. Gifts for the sporty dad, gifts for the hipster dad! Taupe socks and signed photos of whoever played the Superbowl. Shit. You are not a dad for which one can just buy shit, the shit at the cash wrap of the store in the mall that somebody in an air-conditioned office decided months ago would sell for Father's Day. You are not that dad. You are this dad:
My dad: A dad who cuts a fine figure in a tony sheath avec pailletes, a dad who can do one-armed pull ups with his tattooed bicep. A dad with the most absurd sense of humor, a kind dad, a smart dad, a dad who talks to me about string theory and spit, a dad who still throws his arm across me at a crosswalk so I won't get hit by a car, who won't let me pull the blade out of his Swiss army knife for fear that I may hurt myself. You are my Daddy Maddy, (although I think you gave yourself that moniker as I don't remember ever calling you by that name), and I certainly hope you are the type of dad that won't kill me for posting this picture. But honestly, I think this is my favorite photo of you, the slight sadness in your eyes. The way you feel the brevity, the heavy weight of living, the contradiction of joy, and yet refuse to take it all too seriously. The way you pull off that hat with your beard, the curve of your wrist just like my own. Happy Father's Day Dad: I think you would agree--this photo is unique, the staging handmade, the sentiment one-of-a-kind, and the posting of it? Priceless.
I love you,
Your daughter, Blam *Dear Reader: I believe this photo was taken after my grandmother passed away. That's my frocked father on the left, my uncle on the right. I think they were going through her stuff and this was their way of dealing with the grief. If only I knew what happened to this dress because it is perfection.