Rick Allen, Dad Extraordinaire

There is a saying, “Any fool can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a Daddy.”  My dad undoubtedly fits in the “Daddy” category.  Anyone who knows him would agree.

My first real memory of my father is when he would take us to McDonald’s on Saturday and buy us a Happy Meal and take us to get candy afterwards.  I used to look forward to those dates so much when I was a little girl.  It wasn’t because I got McDonald’s or candy (although I did love both of those things), but it was because I loved spending time with my Dad.  My dad travelled a lot growing up, so any opportunity that I had to be around him was priceless.  In my eyes he hung the moon. 

When I got a little older I remembered asking him to help me study for my history exams in high school.  One of my dad’s favorite things is history.  He would study with me and tell me all of these additional facts the teacher didn’t discuss.  I could have probably studied on my own, but I loved hearing those stories.  In college I would come home and tell him everything I learned in my church history classes.  We would sit and mull over my class notes and discuss everything from religion to politics.  In my eyes he was the smartest man in the world.

I have watched my father as he has lived his life.  I have watched him be put through the fire of family divorce and my mother’s fight against breast cancer.  I have observed as he cared for my mom’s mother and father in their last days as if they were his own flesh and blood.  I have witnessed the unconditional love that he poured out to his wife, children and grandchildren.  I have seen him take back his health with a healthy lifestyle that includes nutritious lunches and bike riding.  I have been on the other line when he has called to see how I am doing because he heard that my interstitial cystitis was acting up.  In my eyes he is one of the most compassionate men I know.    

My dad isn’t perfect.  He would be the first to tell you that, but the truth of the matter is, he is perfect for me.  I am blessed that I have a father who I can call “Dad”, but am doubly blessed that I have a father that I can call “friend.”  It makes him the best daddy in the world…to me, at least.  And that’s all that really matters.  Happy Father’s Day, Dad.
Like good Baptists we didn't have dancing at my wedding, so at my cousins wedding we danced to make up for it.
My dad holding my sweet Alexandria.


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