My mom and dad got divorced when I was three. I have to say, that was honestly the best decision ever…those two couldn’t possibly be any more different from each other, and I’m glad that it was early in my life so I can’t remember the fighting and bickering and trying to work it out. None of that. My memories of my dad are, well, different. Unconventional.
Dad lived pretty far away (still does, up in San Francisco), so we only got to see each other a couple times a year. The upside there is that my memories of my dad are awesome. Dad, in his own words, has always been more of a friend than a parental figure. He didn’t worry about rules or societal norms. If I wanted to run around the park at midnight, that’s what we went and did. If I wanted face paint or pet frogs or a freaking carnival in my honor, I got it. One summer, I apparently ate nothing but Cheerios because, as dad says, “That’s all you wanted!” And for just a week or two at a time, I felt like the most special person in the world.
I have a lot of fond memories of my dad: feeding the ducks at the Fine Art Museum. Following him around on his Haight-Ashbury tours, where he’d tell vivid stories of leading rallies and burning his draft card while all his high school buddies went off to Vietnam. Dress-up time, when I’d burrow through his latest girlfriend’s closet and come out looking like a drag queen from the 80’s. My dad had no idea what to do with a kid, but he asked what I was interested in throughout every stage of my life and enthusiastically got on board. Dad was always in my corner and let me be me.
So it’s become a bit of a tradition for me to print out photos of dad and I throughout my life and take one to him every time I visit. Framed, in books, on coffee mugs…they line his house and are his most cherished treasures, even above the varying masks and Buddhist relics he’s collected from around the world. I bring friends and relatives in through his door and he unfailingly picks one up, launching into a story about one of our many adventures. These times are now some of my newest and most precious memories of my dad: seeing him reminisce and knowing that of all the people, all the experiences in his life, I’m the one who makes him that happy.
This Father’s Day, let Dad know how much you care. Use your favorite photo memories to create something special just for him. Make it memorable. Make it meaningful. Make it real. Go to hp.com/go/makeitreal.
Disclosure: Compensation was provided by HP via Glam Media. The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are not indicative of the opinions or positions of HP.