Proof Reading

The phone rang early yesterday morning.


I was awake, but still lying in bed.  


"Can you do me a favor?"


Anything.  Especially for him.


"Can you proof-read my book for me?"


I literally sat straight up in bed.  Way to go, Tuesday.  Starting with a request like that, there was no way things could go wrong.


I grew up in a family of writers.  People with words.  We are storytellers and explainers and creators.  None of us write in the same fashion, or build our work the same way.  


But sometimes I crave his words.  Full of humor and wisdom and secrets that his eyes tell me, but his voice never does.


So Tuesday was spent doing what I do best.  Being a big sister.  Applying sunscreen, and occasionally looking up from my proof-reading to scan the pool for two familiar faces.  I made the girls drink water, trying to explain to them when you're out in the sun for three hours at a time you get dehydrated.  Your body gets thirsty.  


They didn't buy it.


So we ate popsicles and Starbursts, which had melted on the beach towel.  Meghan managed to rub sunscreen right down the middle of my back (I was thankful, since that means my scar was protected) but absolutely nowhere else.  


Then we went home.  And curled up on the couches in the air conditioning and napped.  The warm, sinking kind of napping when all noises are loud, but not disturbing; and you fade in and out for what seems like hours, but is really only twenty minutes.  My valiant efforts at some rest were defeated, however, when the furry, gray cat fell on my head.


Today is Wednesday.  This morning we did it all over again.  Sunscreen, water, counting change for the concession stand.  Repeat.  


The phenomenon, which is my family, just really amazes me on days like today.  The love I have for the littlest girls who are not related to me by blood.  The friendship I have for the tall woman who married my Dad.  The way my relationship with my Dad has evolved over the years -- has endured so much pressure, pain, change.  Our stories are ones, which distinctly revolve around establishing roles and determining boundaries.  Have we learned to be patient with each other?  To bear with one another as we each set out to figure out our place in this dynamic.  To do our best to be what each other needs, and forgiving each other when we cannot.


I finished reading the book.  It has blessed my heart to realize I know my Dad -- as man, not just as a father.  He may not realize it, or even agree.  But I do.  And there are days when I just want to cry, wishing I could engage with him the way he does with his clients. Sometimes the closest thing I get are late-night workouts or burrito bols on the patio.  


Regardless, I am who I am because of him.  


The oldest little sister just walked in the door.  Shrieked and fell on me on the couch in order to give me a hug.  Wish you could have seen it.  Just a glimpse into my life.