An Apology to My Father

Dooley Noted: 6/21/2015
 
Today is the day where everyone is noting the greatness of their fathers.
 
It’s wonderful. 
 
But on this Father’s Day, I feel I owe mine an apology. 
 
So, I’m going to focus more on what I missed.
 
My entire life, my father has been trying to teach me how to be strong.
 
And I don’t necessarily mean the figurative sense.
 
My father never had bulging muscles nor six-pack abs.
 
He had a bit of a round belly that I mistook for him being fat.
 
But he wasn’t fat. He just wasn’t sucking in his gut. 
 
He breathed deeply into his gut, building intraabdominal pressure and pure power, as he worked hard in the factory.
 
He mostly ate healthy, fresh food grown right in his own garden.
I don’t remember a single weekend of my childhood where he wasn’t constantly working under a car, in the yard, or in the garden. 
 
And every weekend I spent with him, he requested I arm wrestle with him.
 
Being the brat that I was, I scoffed at his requests. 
 
Back then, none of his work and dedication was my definition of fitness. 
 
I thought fitness was sports, Tae-Bo videos, and low-fat diet foods. 
 
But I know better now. 
 
Even riddled with cancer and undergoing chemotherapy, he still asked me to arm wrestle him. 
And he still beat me. 
 
I’m sorry, Dad, that I wasn’t paying more attention. 
 
When you asked me every day to punch you in the gut, you were trying to teach me how to be strong. 
 
You were trying to teach me what I teach every patient at every single visit.
 
I missed out on many of your strength teachings, because I was a brat who thought she knew better than a man with 36 years more life experience. 
 
It took three decades, Dad, but I want you to know I’m paying attention now. 
 
I will work every day to improve the things you taught me about strength. 
 
I know my audience was like me in my youth: hesitant to hear the message that strength fixes most problems. 
 
Thank you for teaching me that every day of my life. 
 
I won’t let your strength teachings go to waste. 
 
Honor the ones who strengthen you. 
 
As always, it’s your call. 
 
– Dr. Kathy Dooley 

P.S. Love you, strong man.