In wedding planning I've had this feeling of being vaguely thwarted. I have these great visions in my head--all of the things I want to do and how I want things to look and feel, but I keep being surprised at how little time, energy, and resources I have. I mean, part of it is that my sisters and close friends are all pregnant and/or moving, that we only have a couple of months (6 weeks!) etc., but I also felt vaguely aware of a lack, some support I kept reaching for but wasn't where I expected it to be. And I realized today that this is what missing my dad feels like.
Because if you need a really funky cool venue in Salt Lake, you would call Dennis. Or if you need someone who can spend an inordinate amount of time or money, like, building a fountain or renting folding chairs without worrying you about it you could call Dennis. Or if you need someone to put together a luncheon with thought mostly to tastefulness with an appropriate spritz of heart-felt emotion, or you need 200 extra man hours, or you're wondering what flowers match, or you need some good samba, or someone to bounce ideas off of to make sure you're living up to the Evans family standard of good taste and good parties, or just to be pleasantly surprised by an extra dozen paperwhites, you could call Dennis.
I don't know if this paean will translate to other families. Because I'm sure everyone loves and misses their dads in their own ways, and maybe this sounds trite or utilitarian...but. This is what Dennis does and did. This is me beginning to realize and appreciate how a gruff old curmudgeon showed me he loved me. And how much who I am depended on him.
Happy Father's Day. I miss you. ke
[I want to say, too, that I'm super grateful for all the help that everyone has offered and provided. And also that I keep referring to taste--this is subjective, of course, but the things is, Dennis defined my tastes almost exclusively so any stylistic thing he did was in perfectly good taste? If that makes sense? A subject for another post.]