Dad's smile

This week involved a few tears and many prayers as my dad underwent a 'standard procedure' to determine what, if anything, was wrong with his heart.

Really, when it's your daddy, the words standard procedure mean nothing when you hear heart as well. Your mind races to different possibilities and you find yourself simultaneously panicked and trying to ignore your own thoughts as the Holy Spirit whispers over and over, "trust, trust."

We are so grateful that all went smoothly and there is nothing serious to be concerned about. He is doing extremely well, and seemed so calm and completely himself when he came from the hospital on Tuesday. He smiled and watched in delight at his three grandkids playing in his yard, playing in the sandbox and pouring buckets of water everywhere. I saw a smile I have seen many times, but never knew exactly what it meant until not so long ago.

When I sang a solo in my honour choir's Christmas concert -- in German -- Dad was there to hear me. (He was actually there for every band concert, choir recital, everything... for all three kids.) He had that smile as I sang, slightly off key and riddled with nervousness (a solo that never has and never will be repeated, as my nerves just can't take it). I made sure to make eye contact with him before the song began, as a way of feeling strengthened and encouraged.

When I decided to leave Mount Saint Vincent University and take off to what my whole family thought was the middle of nowhere to study Catholic liberal arts, everyone was worried about me living so far away from home. Dad was one of them. He never voiced his concerns -- has has mom for that! -- but I could tell he was concerned. Yet when he and mom dropped me off at the airport, I was bouncing off the walls with excitement to embark on my new life experience. And dad smiled at me the same way. Despite his hesitation, he smiled.

As Patrick and I made arrangements for our wedding, the one thing that really confused me with the Father/Daughter dance. While I loved the idea of it, all the typical songs that other people chose seemed so cliche and unlike the relationship I share with my father. We needed a song that really suited us.

I came across a Paul Simon song I had never heard called "Father and Daughter." I was surprised that it was new to me, because I am a big Paul Simon / Simon & Garfunkel fan. When I heard it, I thought it was so beautiful, sweet, happy and what every little girl's heart would want to hear from her daddy. But to ask him to dance with me to this song seemed to project onto him feelings I expected him to feel towards me; I felt vulnerable at asking him if he would like this song. Yet it was the only song that seemed close (I just couldn't picture my Dad and I dancing to a Tim McGraw song, for instance!)

Well, he listened to it and agreed that it would be a good choice. "It's so you," he said after looking it up on Youtube. Given my utter fixation with Paul Simon since I was about two (no word of a lie), he was right. It was settled. We had chosen our Father/Daughter dance.

At my wedding reception, the song started up and dad and I took the dance floor. And he sang every word. I was amazed, as even I hadn't memorized the song. He said he listened to it every day since I first suggested it to him because he wanted to know all the words. He wanted the words to be his own.


And then he told me, "I am so proud of you for the woman you are." This wasn't the first time he had told me he was proud of me, but I think it was the first time I truly understood him.

He was smiling that smile at me.

It was then I realized he had been saying it all along; I just didn't have ears to hear him.



I'm so happy that my daddy is doing well, and that his heart is safe and strong. He needs to keep it that way to welcome another addition to our family this winter.

I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
That loved his daughter more than I love you