My dad supplies me with a veritable treasure chest of comedic greatness. I often don't share it because sometimes, the best part of my stories is the accent with which I deliver them. Well, until I start a video blog, the written word is going to have to suffice.
This is my dad.
You may notice the resemblance between the two of us.
I credit my dad, in large part, for making me who I am. A large number of Indian parents who have daughters have one main goal in life; to make sure she eventually has a husband from a good family who is capable of taking care of her. I had girlfriends with dads that wouldn't allow them to do anything for themselves. My dad said I wasn't allowed to drive till I could check my oil and change a tire. (Luckily, because I've had my share of flat tires...) I wasn't allowed to seriously date until I could take care of myself because he didn't want me to have to rely on anyone else to take care of me.
Don't get me wrong though, it wasn't like my dad didn't spoil me rotten when the opportunity presented itself. I don't know many people who didn't have a dime of student debt when they graduated. My dad always sacrificed for his family so we didn't have to struggle to have the best education, or didn't have to worry about groceries, books, car payments, gas, etc. in college. There was one point when I was in college where I had a new Accord, my mom had a new minivan (always in denial that she didn't have a gaggle of kids to drive around to sporting practices anymore), my brother had a new Camry, and my dad was driving around a manual 1984 Honda hatchback. Always so selfless, he never complained once.
My dad often provides me with Confucious-like pearls of wisdom. I think they're worth sharing. After all, it's not fair me to hoard all the wisdom, right?
"Don't be so busy making a living that you forget to make a life."
In 2008, I was facing a total nervous breakdown from overwork in NYC. I had no time to talk to the man I married (and we lived together!), let alone my friends and family. I was so caught up in the rat-race of making enough money to pay our car payment and our ridiculously overpriced mortgage on our Hoboken condo, that I had lost sight of what was really important. Good thing I probably have the only dad in the world who would encourage me to resign from the most lucrative job I've ever had (or will probably ever have). After all, the people you don't want to let down are the people who will always be there for you and if I learned anything, money can't buy happiness. I'm happy to say that the story of my decision to resign and relocate to the Midwest is one that has a "happily ever after..."
"You can come back as bacteria if you're a big enough asshole."
If you've spent any reasonable amount of time with me, you probably know that I'm Hindu. Hindus believe in reincarnation. For those of you that aren't familiar with the infamous "woodchuck story", this one is related to a conversation in which my dad proceeded to tell me why he wasn't upset that the trap he set for a woodchuck in our backyard resulted in said woodchuck's demise. He told me that he didn't care if the woodchuck died because he had a dream that in it's last lifetime, the woodchuck was a Nazi and it was killing all the Jews. It stands to reason that the woodchuck deserved to die for such heinous acts against humanity. However, I had not known that people could come back as animals. I said so and was immediately chastised for not knowing more about my culture. He then proceeded to explain to me that you can come back as bacteria if you're a big enough asshole. Words to live by, dad. Seriously. They should probably make bracelets with this embroidered on them, similar to the Livestrong or WWJD bracelets. I think we'd all be better people if we had that reminder of the consequences of our actions.
"Your education can never be taken away."
School was never hard for me. I wasn't the smartest kid in school, but I certainly did well. When I look bad on my report cards, my teachers always said I was bright, but that was always overshadowed by comments about how I was too social, needed to concentrate more on learning over making friends, etc. In undergrad, during my junior year, I didn't go to class for a solid month. I showed up for quizzes & tests, but really, that was it* It was the best I had ever done. A solid 4.0 GPA that semester. It wasn't until I went to grad school that I realized how easy everything else had been. I seriously considered dropping out because I wasn't smart enough for grad school. Again, dad to the rescue. He said that it was really important that I continue and do my best to do well because at the end of the day, you can lose your job, lose your money, lose your friends, but your education is yours forever because you earn it.
There are about a million other things that my dad has taught me over the last 32 years. Most importantly though, I don't think I say thanks enough. I've done my share of complaining about getting the short end of the genetic stick. The best way I can put it is that whatever I lack on the "Nature" side of things, God has more than made up for by giving me a kick-ass "Nurture" side of things. I'll never be able to repay my dad for all that he has done for me and there aren't enough words to express my gratitude and love towards him. What the heck, though?...it's worth saying. I love you, dad. Thanks for being my hero and the standard to which I measure myself. I can only hope to be half the parent you have been if I ever have children...
* Sorry, dad. You probably don't feel so great about that, but I promise I learned just as much as if I did go to class. It's pointless to go to a lecture hall with 400 other people to have someone talk at you for an hour when you could just read the damn book.
