thankfulness: day 5

I would like to dedicate this post to my dad.

Unfortunately, we live in a society where a lot of people don't have fathers. Or if they do know who their father is, he works too much for them to really know him.

I am the exact opposite of this.

I have the world's greatest dad.

A lot of people say we look alike, and I love how much this picture proves just that.

We also have a plethora of other things in common:

We could both live off of BoJangles, sweet tea, and this thing that I call "Daddy Dip."

We are both terribly afraid of heights.

We both violently cheer for the Wolfpack.

We both break out in hives when we drive through Chapel Hill.

We both love the mountains of Tennessee.

We both sing in a low register.

We both would rather be in charge.

We both have independent spirits.

We both love Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream.

We both prefer the lake over the beach.

We mirror each other in many of our actions--in other words, we sit in the same position, but I'll have my right arm resting on my head but he uses his left.

We're both incredibly sarcastic and make the same face when we're lying or when we're angry.

We both have smiles that take up our faces, sandy blond hair, and emerald green eyes.

We both have a loud, spastic laugh.

We both brake way too hard when we're driving.

As I think about these things, I feel so grateful that I know my dad. I love that these things make me fit in somewhere. They make me feel secure that I belong.

However, we have our differences...

I love to read and he refuses to pick up a book.

He's an engineer and I'm an English major.

He's a morning person and I'm a night owl.

I love coffee and he can't stand it.

Pasta isn't his favorite, but I could live on it.

He thinks SPAM is an acceptable meal and I don't even recognize it as edible.

He likes mustard, but it makes me sick.

I am beyond thankful for my dad.

I am thankful for a dad who let us use him as a jungle gym until we were in our teens.

This photo was taken on Christmas Eve. Daddy wrestled and tickled us for hours until we dropped. That way, we wouldn't have the agony of waiting to fall asleep because we were so excited for Santa to come.

I'm thankful for a dad who let us use our imaginations and believe in Santa Claus.

I am thankful for a dad who answers the question:

"Daddy, do you think I'm pretty?" with

"No baby, I think you're beautiful. Very, very beautiful."

I am thankful for a dad who knows how much I love surprises and being the center of attention, so he picked a song for us to dance to at my 18th Birthday/Graduation party in front of the 300 guests that he let me invite.


I am thankful for a dad that will let me take 1,000 pictures of him.

Remember how I mentioned that we're both afraid of heights?
Well, this picture was taken at the bottom of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, Italy. I forced myself to go to the top but had a panic attack. Daddy was smart enough to stay at the bottom and was waiting for me when I came running out of the elevator.


I am thankful for a dad who taught me the important things like how to fish and how to shoot a gun and change my oil.
I am thankful for a dad who required me to touch the gross, slimy fish.
"Rebekah, it builds character. My daughters are going to have character."

I am thankful for his pearls of wisdom:

"Rebekah, don't ever act like you're afraid of a gun. If you're afraid of the gun, you can't shoot straight. And one day, you're going to have to shoot my grandchildren's dates. Because my grandchildren aren't just going to go out with anyone."

"Rebekah, all boys are dogs. They only want one thing."

"Rebekah, if someone ever makes fun of you, tell them politely to stop. If they do it again, knock 'em flat."

"Rebekah, I gave you my last name. I worked for that last name, and you will too. When you mess up, I mess up. And we both know that I don't mess up."

"Rebekah. Don't you ever bring home a Tar Heel fan. It will put too much strain on your relationship to date that kind of idiot. It will also require me to spend too much time in jail for shooting the boy."

...Thanks, Dad, I'll remember that.

I am also incredibly thankful for a dad who teaches.

For a dad who leads, and not just commands.

Whether those lessons are spoken ("Now Rebekah, that's your oil cap and that's your window washer fluid. Don't get them mixed up.") or unspoken (I'm yet to meet a man who treats a lady better than my father treats my mother) he's a leader.

I am thankful for a father who does the little things...

Like, take off from work and drive the hour it took to come to my school from his work at the time to come to my 5-year-old birthday party in my classroom.

He sends me daisies on Valentine's Day because he knows their my favorite.

He sends me random emails that only say "I love you." because sometimes a girl needs to hear that. Or a text with a winky face (he learned to text just to send those...I'm not kidding)

There isn't a dress that I have ever owned that he hasn't made pass the twirl test.

He has watched every chick flick that I have ever brought home.

He knows every Disney song by heart.

He knows that Cinderella has a blue dress and that Ariel is a mermaid.

He inspects my and my sister's bathing suits to make sure they're appropriate.

He cried the day that I graduated high school. And the day of my Senior Prom. And he has to make a joke out of me graduating college because when he doesn't, he tears up.

He has never missed one of my dance recitals or band concerts.

He even coached the majority of my sports teams even though it physically hurt him to watch me play so badly.

He knows my favorite color is purple.

He lets me pick where we go out to lunch when he comes to Raleigh. Even if I do choose a "froo-froo sandwich shop that a lesser man wouldn't be caught dead in."

He knows that I was born to be Cinderella, and spent way too much money on the perfect shoes for my Senior Prom.

He loves Jesus.

And he made sure that his children loved Jesus.

He taught his daughters the values of modesty and waiting until marriage.

If those conversations were awkward, he never let on. He knew it cost too much to not have those conversations.

Thanks to him, I'm the luckiest girl in the world.