Daddio, Papa Joe

Saturday was a very special day. A couple of moons ago, a boy was born. This boy turned into a man.

Short Shorts

And then he turned into my Dad. And wow. Words cannot explain how lucky I am.


In the last few days, weeks, months, maybe even years.. Really since I moved to Madison and went to college, my relationship with my parents has evolved, it has changed. It is a weird/beautiful/crazy thing when your parents stop being “parents” – the people who run your life, they’re your heros, invincible – and instead become… Your friends? Your mentors? Your equal? Totally rad people that happen to be 20 or 30 years older than you that you talk to about the things you have in common and enjoy talking about?

I think that last bit is one of the things I have enjoyed the most about my ‘grown-up’ relationship with my dad. Now that I’ve become almost a real human an independent person with developed interests and hobbies, I’ve discover how much we have in common. Somethings I knew about earlier, like our love for meat and potatoes and our passion for the great outdoors. But I always used to think I was more like my mom. I thought I looked more like my mom and I was always the arty kid, just like my mom. BUT GUESS WHAT! I think it might be an even split!

Getting ready to make some mashed potatoes... I love that the drill is basically a scepter.

Getting ready to make some mashed potatoes… I love that the drill is basically a scepter.

Yeah, that’s right. I’ve got my daddy’s blue eyes (and the bad vision that comes with it 😉 ), his nose, and his crazy-curly-you-might-be-homeless-but-it’s-okay-because-you’re-cute hair.

But even more than looks, my insides are so much the same as his. We are builders. We make things, and we can appreciate other things that people have taken the time to create. To design. My father has passed on to me, and taught me over the years, about logical thinking, about process. About taking a moment to figure out how you REALLY want to do things so that you can do it well and right. And he has taught me that not everything comes out well. Or right. And that is 100% okay too. Because at the end of it all, if you learned something (even if it’s how not to do something) it was probably worth it.

Not sure why this photo is so terrible or why it seemed like a good idea to take in like this.... We are weird.

Not sure why this photo is so terrible or why it seemed like a good idea to take in like this…. We are weird.

I love that I get to talk shop with my dad. That when he is building something new for the house or the campground, he calls and tells me about it, or includes me in the building process. I love that he has a unique view of the world, of life, of projects. Because I know that I can always ask his opinion on how to do something whether it is building cubbies, putting the soft-top on my jeep, or applying for a new job. And you know what, it’s a cliche for a reason, because my daddio is almost always right. ALWAYS! It’s magic or something.

But really, he is excellent at giving advice. I think he gets it from his father, I can see that now as I take a step back. But he uses the perfect combination of logic and love when he gives advice. And you know, not a lot of people can do that. But my dad, he can. And he can build a porch or a treehouse or anything you want, probably, with his bare hands. He can build a fire in minutes, he can cook four perfect turkeys in just a few hours, and he can climb a mountain in days.


Best. Face. Ever.

He is my dad. He is my friend. He is just a really rad dude that’s 30 years older than me. But he is still my hero too. ♥


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