Because dads don't always think like moms.
Every dad has at least one memory of an event or gesture that, at least in his mind, is evidence of his desire to be a good dad. For one fellow I know, that memory is of something he used to do whenever he and his daughter were on a plane; the takeoff phase of the flight terrified her. To calm her, he softly sang “Be Bop A Lula” in her ear. It worked every time.
Today her musical interest is rap music and she is no longer charmed when he sings “Be Bop A Lula”. I think, though, he might occasionally hum that song to himself.
Now and then you might see someone doing something that seems out of place or makes no sense at all, but the grin on their face tells you that, although you can’t see it, the gesture has profound meaning. Like when you hear a man humming “Be Bop A Lula” to himself while browsing in a crowded bookstore.
There are many ways dads can be heroes to their daughters. Some involve strength of muscle, others, strength of character. Some dads are heroes because of a single act of selflessness, others, because he has always been there doing for her what she needed, without waiting to be asked to lend help. It doesn’t matter, really, how a daughter determines when her dad is a hero. He is, after all, her hero.
One morning my wife and I enjoyed breakfast with another couple. Eventually I asked the father if he had a close relationship with his daughter, and he politely replied that he did, but he didn’t elaborate.
His wife, eager to give him more credit than he gave himself, told me of a phone call they received late one evening. Their daughter was in trouble and needed immediate help. Dad jumped into the car and drove fourteen hours to reach her, to rescue her.
The dad gave his wife that look that implied he didn’t want the attention, so she concluded her story, ending with, “They are very close; he’s her hero.”
His daughter’s hero; is their anything a dad would rather be?