5 Years Later

It was five years ago this week that my father and I ended our 3,218 day reading streak.

It would seem appropriate for me to do an essay on how our lives have changed since then, what the response has been to our story, and all of the wonderful things that came along with the book. But (spoiler alert!) that’s actually going in the paperback version! Instead, and in keeping with my style, I offer you…

The Five Things My Father was Always Right About (Even If I Didn’t Know it Then)

1. Elvis IS King. I tried to deny it. I thought he was just loud and corny. I thought he was a Las Vegas show biz act. But he had some amazing songs, and an absolutely beautiful voice. Also, I was the only person in a very large game of Pub Quiz who knew Elvis’s middle name… Aron, spelled Aaron on his grave. Booyah, 10 points.

2. Exercise makes you feel good. No matter how often you read these things in magazines, hear them on the radio, even read them in your text books, over and over again, there’s something about hearing it from your Dad that makes it ring true. He’s not a fitness buff, per say (in the sense that he doesn’t subscribe to magazines or really believe many theories but his own) but at his peak, he walks a half-marathon every other day. At age 62. He wants to be in shape, but he also genuinely loves the way he feels when he’s done. And guess what? He’s right. When I leave the gym after my two-hour workout, I feel like a SUPERHERO. Why does no one ever mention the SUPERHERO PART? Well, my dad did.

3. I don’t need to get any taller. I may shop in the petite section from time to time, but my dad always told me that I “act big.” That I have a larger-than-life personality. I used to think he was just flattering me, but as I got older I realized that I was the perfect size to be myself. I get the lowest shelf in the kitchen, since I can’t reach the others. No one else even has fingers small enough to type on my phone. I am the size I was meant to be. He is a foot taller than I am, and that’s the size he was meant to be.

4. Real men wear pink. And teal. And turquoise. And periwinkle. And when the occasion calls for it, intricately decorated women’s hats. As in, real men do what makes them happy. And so do real girls. I am totally a real girl. So today, when I wanted to wear my cutest dress with my clunky Nike flip-flops, I acted like it was a “thing.” We’re a “thing” starting family.

5. There’s no such thing as the hiccups. Just kidding. He’s still wrong sometimes.

 

What were your parents right about 5, or 10, 0r 50 years ago that you only realized recently?