Hello and welcome! I hope everyone had, is having, and will have, a great weekend! After all, another week is in the past, and another sweaty, salty weekend is upon us, yay, said no Kansan I know, ever. Remember when we had that chilly, cool, crisp, Springin’ into Summer air? I think it was April 25th, and all I needed was a light jacket!? Yeah, turns out you were right Miss Rhode Island, this 102 degree heat is for the birds. Unless you have a pool, then you gucci! It’s also Father’s Day weekend, and I could not ask for a better dad, or better father figures in my life. And, I have a few of them, fortunately, and I love all of them, but none of them can replace my dad. May was for Mother’s Day, but it’s June, so this one’s for Jim.
This morning, as I was enjoying a Brawley fan favorite, National Lampoon’s “Vacation”, starring Chevy Chase and Beverly D’Angelo, all I could think about was the time my mom and dad decided we should drive half way across the country to see my Aunt Sandy, and cousins, in San Diego. Now this was back in 1997ish, so Jim and Terry probably remember some things better, but hey, it’s been a hot minute, give a girl a memory break. So we’re driving to California, we had never done that, we would drive to surrounding states but we were never the cross country, travelin’ kind. Now that I think about it, I think my parents actually like driving, I know my dad does, maybe I was the common denominator in not taking cross country, scenic byway tours, man, self realization is a b*tch! Just kidding, but in all fairness, I was a bit of a hand full so, can’t blame em’. Now where was I… oh yes, Chevy Chase and my dad on a road trip.
So there we were, making our way through the Southwest, I specifically remember stopping at one point because it was also the Sweet Sixteen, and KU was playing that night. There was no way my dad was going to miss that game. So we pulled into a beige, turquoise filled town, that had to have been New Mexico. I have no idea what town, I didn’t see Walter White anywhere, but there was a Comfort Inn and a KFC, that’ll work. We watched our beloved Hawks, sadly, loose that game… big vaca mood killer, but hey, ain’t noting gonna hold us down, no no, got to keep on moving… waking up to a fresh shower, accompanied with a “there’s always next year” attitude, we head to our next stop, the one and only, Grand Canyon. My dad finds a place to park and we get out to enjoy the beautiful and breathtaking views, that mind you, we’ve never seen before. About 15 minutes into this venture, my mom and I say… okay, we’ve seen it, let’s go! My dad looks at us and said something to the tune of… don’t you two want to see this? I mean hello, it’s an amazing view that we may never see again!? Nah, we’re good… and I for one, would like to hit Sea World please! Watching the Griswold’s gaze over that same Grand ol’ canyon, except it’s Clark rushing the fam along, after all, he had just robbed a cowboy inn for gas money! But in all seriousness, I immediately thought, man, I wish I would have spent a few more minutes, staring at that hole, with my dad.
Before I came to grips with the fact that I was indeed an alcoholic, my dad wrote me a letter. He wrote, Ashley, we don’t even know who you are anymore, all you care about is booze and nothing else. My life was literally falling apart. That wasn’t the whole letter, but you get the jist of it. I was ruining my life, and the only reason, was for another drink. When I read that letter I was a bit taken back, because if my dad wanted to talk to me, he would get in the truck and drive up. He had never sat and wrote me a letter, but then again, I had also never almost drank myself to death, either. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I can’t imagine last June for my dad or my mom, and I hope and pray, I never put them through that again. My parents have put up with a lot of sh*t from me, they’ve dealt with my ass coming in at 4am, carefree and breaking curfew, loud, obviously drunk, and making a ham sandwich! They’ve picked me up from jail, and on the way home, stopped to make sure I had breakfast. I’ve run away, but to my surprise, came back to a locked up house, that’ll teach you not to do that again! You get it, I wasn’t always easy to love, but they still love you, because you’re their kid. And I’m lucky to have had that, so thank you. 
To my dad, and all the dad’s just trying to do it Griswold style, keeping it all together, while it may be falling apart, and always some life lessons along the way, you’re appreciated. I for one took some of those times for granted, because you don’t always realize those moments as they’re happening, but you grow, and so does your dad, so hug him, have a beer or a cream soda with him, tell him you love him, ask him to tell you a funny story from his teen years, ask him if he likes George Carlin… you never know what you might find out!
I hope you have a wonderful Father’s Day dad, and I hope you know how much you mean to me. After all, you did introduce me to Led Zeppelin, Animal House, and taught me how to make the BEST spaghetti sauce, ever. You also managed to never give up on me, which I know wasn’t always easy, and you continued to always love me. I don’t really know what else a daughter could ask for. I love ya dad! 