My Dream Came True

My Dream Came True

I don’t know that I believe in fate or destiny but sometimes it seems like you were just meant to stumble upon something, doesn’t it?

On Saturday when I was out doing battle with a constantly blowing wind, I made a right turn and headed down a small road that I never had before. While riding down the lane I saw something printed above a barn door out of the corner of my eye. I pulled a quick u-turn to get a better look.

“My Dream Came True.”

My Dream Came True

In that moment it was like a message that was just for me.

Earlier in the week while I sat talking with my dad, he looked and me with his infinitely deep brown eyes and asked,“Did you ever imagine that your life would turn out like this?”

His question centered around his memories of taking me for rides perched on the gas tank of a trail bike before I was even able to talk. Slowly and steadily we’d go around in the field behind our house. When I wanted him to take me out, I would reach up to him with both hands upward and make “brrmm brrmm” noises.

My dad is not well. But… he has the heart of a lion – fierce, proud and strong. Every time I see him or talk to him on the phone, every. single. time – he tells me a story about us going for a ride in the field on that old motorcycle. And each and every time he tells me that same story, he does it with a smile. I just want to weep when I think of how he carries that memory of us in his lion-heart each day.

Though I am adult with a child of my own, I’ll always be daddy’s girl. That swell of pride that comes when your dad looks at you and says he’s proud of you is a timelessly wonderful feeling. Maybe it is even more important now than it ever was.

A huge part of my life was set on a path by him. He put a dream in motion in those toddler days. It was a gift I didn’t even know I wanted but I cherish it like no other. I think I carry my dad’s dream forward in my heart.

19 Replies to “My Dream Came True”

  1. You do have a way with words. I’d bet your dad had something to do with that, too, and maybe more with seeing the story than the wordsmith part.

    1. Thanks, B 🙂

      My dad was a stay at home dad, so he shaped much of what i’ve become. Mostly the kooky parts ~ my pop has always been a dreamer. Any of my good sense comes from my amazing mom.

  2. Serendipity was at play when you went down that road. Your story my me teary. My dad is very much the same way and he makes my heart fill ith joy and smile when I think about all the times we went camping & fishing.

  3. Is he well enough to get in the side car? I’d take him for a ride. I have yet to get one of my kids hooked on bikes but I’m hoping Thing 4 will want to ride. I hope your Father is comfortable.

    1. +1

      First thing I thought when I read through the post. If there is any chance you can repay the memory by putting him in the side car, take him out for a ride. =)

  4. What a wonderful post, thanks for sharing it. I wasn’t close to my father but I wished I was so seeing someone who has something so special and is willing to share those feelings is lovely .. made me want to laugh and cry all at the same time.

  5. You are a lucky girl!

    For the memories and for the reality.

    Unfortunately, not all of us were blessed with supportive parents, kinda leaves you floundering however old you are!

    Loving your blog, your positive attitude keeps me going sometimes!

    Hugs from France

  6. Enjoy these calls while you can. I was 23 when I lost my father, and Fuzz, a little, maybe slightly weird, recommendation:

    Record those stories.

    I lost my father early 2012, we’d been losing him for 4 years. He’d been losing a little more of himself. Even though at times he seemed to be getting better (off chemo and improving for a full year), I always had this pending feeling we were on borrowed time. I never deleted any of his voicemails.

    The voicemails saved to my cell phone. They almost all started with “Hi Adri it’s Dad” or “Adri hi it’s dad.” I found a program I could buy online that would copy all of my voicemails off of my iphone and save them to PC. I play them back every couple months. Hearing his voice, the things he would say, what was important that particular day (leftovers in the fridge, ride carefully its snowing, lets order pizza) it’s all very bitter sweet… but Rachel it’s so much more sweet than it is bitter.

    Sometimes I hear “hi Adri it’s Dad” and answer back “hi Dad!” and listen to the voicemail… like it was the first time all over again. It does the heart a lot of good. Food for thought. Keep your chin up.

  7. I think you hit on the centiment of most girls, to say that you are “daddy’s girl” What a wonderful feeling it brings to all of us. I loved your post and brought tears to my eyes as well….as I remember being my daddy’s girl!!! Thanks for reminding me 🙂

  8. What a beautiful post. I’m sorry your Dad isn’t doing well. It’s nice that you have such good memories with him. I’m sure you cherish whatever time you have with him. Hugs.

    KK

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