105 - A Letter To My Father

My dad cries only at happy things.
He learned that from his mother.
And when she passed away,
he picked up the role.

My dad wears cool shoes
and nice jeans.
I like his style.

He gave me his curly hair
and his creative ways.
Sometimes I say things 
and they are his words
but they feel like mine.

I always try to be unique,
like I am my own person.
But really I'm such a replica of him.
"You are your father's daughter"
is a phrase I hear often. 

I think my poetry frightens him,
but yet he never misses a poem. 

He isn't easily impressed,
so when I make something that
impresses him, I feel like I can fly.

He has never coddled me.
And I think that has been the greatest gift.
Every time I ask him for something,
his response is something along the lines,
"I could do that for you, but then you will never learn."

So now I can say with confidence,
I can build my own bed,
start my own business,
make decisions about my career,
try new things,
fail one million times and still keep trying,
pay off my credit cards,
figure out taxes,
take a leap of faith again and again.

I truly can create something out of nothing.

I have watched him almost lose everything,
and turn it into a business.
Witnessed what it really means
to turn and idea into reality.

He is my greatest expander.*
My inspiration.
My dad. I love him. 

-sshiffy

*Expander: someone who shows you the things you dream of are possible. Term comes from Lacy Phillips, of To Be Magnetic