Dads and Husbands

Originally written on May 4, 2016-

May 3rd marked our 7th month of marriage.  It also happened to be both our dad's birthday.  Seems strange that our dads would share a birthday, doesn't it?  And our moms were born 13 days apart.

I've been thinking about a specific topic that has to do with my dad and now seems like the right time to write about it.

I've often heard it said that women marry men who are like their dads. I always wondered what that would look like, should I ever marry. Now that I have, I can tell you that that saying is very true for me.

My dad grew up on a farm in Texas. I don't know much about his upbringing other than he drove a tractor and he was one of 9 kids. Dad was well liked. He had an easy going personality and I don't think he ever made an enemy. He liked to tinker and work on electronics. He served in the military. Dad was the "cause" of his parents divorce because he believed in doing the right thing (my grandmother was crazy). Regardless, he spent money home to his mom while he was serving, to help her out financially.  I remember my dad always had a smile. I'm told I look like him.  When I was little, dad would pat me on the head and tap my chin when he was happy with me. I don't think he ever spanked me but I do remember one time when he got mad at me. And he was right to do so. 

My husband grew up on a farm in South Dakota. He worked his parents farm until he left for tech school where he honed his love for all things airplane. Joe can fix just about anything . He likes to tinker and is very mechanical. He wanted to join the service but couldn't because of an astigmatism. When his dad had a stroke, Joe left his airplane mechanic job to return to the farm and help out. He bought  land and eventually started his own farming business. Joe is very good to his mom, even though she can't hear him. He calls to check on her and we have her over for lunch on occasion. If something needs fixing, Joe is there. He is a good son. I love his smile. When we first dated, I remember saying something to Joe that he thought was funny. He responded by tapping me under the chin and smiling. Hmmm.

Dad was a short, hispanic man.  Joe is a tall, skinny redhead. The differences end there. My dad was my favorite person. My husband is my favorite person. Thank you God for giving me both.