Thank you, Dad — part 2

Both parts of this post are an entry in Blogadda’s Tribute to Dad contest, sponsored by Pringoo.

This is part two of a two-part series dedicated to my father. Read part 1 here.
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We discovered, in mom’s absence, that we would rather not be domesticated.

Sometimes Maggi, sometimes boiled eggs — we’d be satisfied with simple dinner options. Who needed the elaborate three course meals?

We had whittled it down to the physiological process it was — satisfy the stomach, not the tongue.

Thankfully mom’s transfer didn’t last more than a couple of months.

And we could, once again, go back to being couch potatoes relishing her delicious creations.

Dad and I collaborated a lot in my college years…he would travel across the country to conduct seminars and would always seek my help in “correcting” his presentations and handouts. I would always chide him for his grammatical errors — “You were an English major?” I’d ask with an incredulous raise of one eyebrow.

He didn’t mind.

“You’re the expert,” he would say. “Help me out here.”

I never realized how highly respected he was in his field until I attended one of his seminars — people clamored to shake his hand. For me, he was just my dad.

But I was never daddy’s little girl until I left home for my first job.

He had always treated me like the tomboy I was.

We watched cricket together, we preferred hanging out in parking lots than spending an hour inside malls, we were more interested in computers than designer clothes (although he loved buying fuchsia pajamas and turtlenecks for me!).

We were buddies.

And then something changed…my taking flight suddenly made him realize his impish kid was really a vulnerable girl out in the world on her own. He accompanied me to Mumbai to “settle me in.”

The company I’d joined had provided for shared accommodation and I could as easily have gone there by myself, bought a couple of household items, and figured out how to set up a sleeping bag — I was, after all, 23!

But he came nevertheless.

He wanted to make sure I was comfortable…that I could manage.

Five months later when I visited home for the first time, it was under awkward circumstances. I had broken the news to him about having found my life partner (through e-communication no less!) and he was flying back with me.

Dad was outraged.

He didn’t know how to react.

Where did he go wrong?

Here was his only child, stubborn as a rock, telling him she knew who she wanted to marry.

That was not for her to decide.

What did she know?

I was taken by surprise.

Dad had (almost) always said yes to everything I had asked for. Ma was the disciplinarian in the house…dad was the good cop.

A cold welcome awaited us at the airport and after my to-be-husband had taken a taxi, the three of us — mom, dad, and I hopped into his car. Dad drove home in complete silence.

And then the questions started pouring:

Do you know the family?

Do you know anything besides what he has told you?

How can you trust someone you just met three days ago?

I don’t understand how you can fall in love with someone on the internet!

Are you out of your mind?

We argued, I tried to rationalize, he cried, I shouted…our relationship got strained for a short time. But when he met with “my choice” most of his fears were allayed.

Over the course of a year and many, many conversations, he began to trust my judgment.

It restored his confidence in my upbringing … He realized he hadn’t failed.

He had, in fact, succeeded in raising a confident, mature, independent young woman who could make her own decisions.

From emotional devastation to immense paternal pride, he came full circle.

During our simple at-home wedding ceremony, I could see the solemness set in on his face.

He was giving away his baby.

Always her father’s daughter, she would now be someone’s wife.

But he chose to see the “brighter side” — he was not losing a daughter, he was gaining a son.

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In his visits to our house the last couple of years, he has been the same outgoing self…ever ready to head on a road trip to Tahoe or Vegas; always reviewing new gadgets; seeking new adventures; supporting my experimentations in the kitchen.

But now he discusses cricket with my husband, asks for “computer help” from his new son, and buys him shirts.

And so, my role has transitioned…from being the tomboy on his sleeve, I have become the woman who runs her own house; the professional who garners respect in her workplace; the daughter who is also a wife.

Times have changed, our relationship has metamorphosed somewhat, but one thing remains constant — my love and admiration for the man who has always been a father first.

Happy father’s day, dad.

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Mansi Bhatia

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Tags: child, dad, daughter, family, father, father’s day, home, husband, India, life, ma, marriage, mom, pa, papa, parenting, parents, relationships, woman

This entry was posted on June 18, 2010 at 11:31 am and is filed under personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.