Intertwined Mishaps

Dad, daddy, pops, PaPa... Whatever I call him, he's my father. There's no denying it either, not that I'd want to. Our heads came from the same mold except his dome is mostly barren where mine thrives with the locks of youth that I'm sure will fade with time. His eyes are hazel, flecks of green and blue with a yellow undertone. His French nose that runs in the family, that I lack. We have the same cheekbones and I'm sure, if I let myself go, I would inherit is mustache as well. It's hard not to notice he's my dad. He's a real mans man, whatever that means. He wears Levis and cowboys boots with plaid shirts. He works hard hours in a factory. He has a pick-up truck and lives out in the country. He wears trucker hats and aviator sunglasses. That's my dad. He's tough, proven by his missing middle finger on his right hand. He has always been a loving father in his own way. Making sure to hug and kiss us, tell us her loves us, tickle the back of our necks affectionately. He finds it hard to make conversation if not about work, bowling, sports, farming, or town and family news, he doesn't talk about his childhood at all. He never speaks of my grandfather whom I don't remember. He jokes about my grandma's alzheimer's even though you know it hurts. He's a conservative Catholic with two liberal daughters, one being a agnostic, which I think he doesn't even realize. He's frugal but always willing to help out financially when his girls are in need. My dad hasn't always been there for me emotionally. I still find it hard to talk to him about certain things and I never want to upset him in any way. I've hurt him before and I never want to do it again. I love my dad and I know he loves me but supporting me financially for all these years, for holding my hand a little longer after the Lord's prayer, for hugging me in public and telling me he loves me, for taking me bowling and giving me tips, for buying me my first basketball hoop when I was in fifth grade, for encouraging me to get an education, for calling when we haven't talked in a while, and when he still, today, tickles my neck affectionately.