Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I have to believe that my dad is reading my posts. I think he would be proud to see me stretching out of my comfort zone.
When I was growing up, I was uncomfortably shy. I couldn’t stand to meet new people and would head out the back door if I knew an introduction was imminent. Out the back door and down to the horse barn. My horse growing up was a half Arab named April. She was born in April. The people down the street had her in a pasture when we moved in and of course I wanted to ride her. I asked my parents and they said I had to ask the neighbors.
Wouldn’t they ask them for me?
I didn’t ride her for awhile. How could I go down there and talk to someone I didn’t know? Too scary.
One day, I saw my parents standing in the road talking to the elderly couple. Now is my chance, I thought. I walked to the gathering of four and waited to be introduced. I couldn’t make eye contact with either of them but looked at them when my parents had them distracted. ” Lissa was wondering about your horse in the field across the street”, I heard my dad say. ” Oh, it’s fine if she would like to ride her any time she wants”, I heard Mr. McMaster say.
I don’t think I ever said thanks for that dad. Thanks for that and all the millions of ways you set my dreams into motion. Love you dad.