crawling up into daddy's lap when dad was still DADDY nodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heart LISTENING to the thump. . . thump somewhere beneath muscle and breastbone I remember his arms their sublime ENCIRCLING and the shawdow of his voice "I love you, little girl. Put away your bad dreams. Daddy's here" I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that came HOME from work everyday and instead of picking me up, chased me far far away
My son is a gentleman and a professional who is pursuing something difficult. Yet the only thing he has ever asked me for is advice - never favors. He has just said, "What do you think I should do, Dad?" It's extraordinary to me that my son would listen to and have faith in whatever wisdom I can offer.
My dad had been born in Mexico and his family had to leave during the Mexican revolution.
Then the musical instruments appeared. Dad’s snare drum from the house, Henry’s guitar from his car, Adam’s spare guitar from my room. Everyone was jamming together, singing songs: Dad’s songs, Adam’s songs, old Clash songs, old Wipers songs. Teddy was dancing around, the blond of his hair reflecting the golden flames. I remember watching it all and getting that tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.
I would never complain about the position I'm in or the attention I get. At the end of the day, I'm very lucky to have what I have and do what I do, but I don't see myself as any different from anyone else who works hard and is a dad and a husband.
Although becoming a singer was my plan A after first hearing Whitney Houston when I was 17, I started off with plan B by going to the teacher-training college that my dad went to. It was a slow coming of age.
Oskar Schell: If the sun were to explode, you wouldn't even know about it for 8 minutes because thats how long it takes for light to travel to us. For eight minutes the world would still be bright and it would still feel warm. It was a year since my dad died and I could feel my eight minutes with him. . . were running out.
One of the things I am very aware of not having in my life is the love of my father. . . . but I know now that it is hard to make up that loss in the life of a daughter. It's your dad who tells you that you are beautiful. Its your dad who picks you up over his head and carries you on his shoulders. It's your did who will fight the monsters under your bed. It's your dad who tells you that you are worth a lot, so don't settle for the first guy who tells you you're pretty.
My father? I never knew him. Never even seen a picture of him.
I'm much more concerned with being a good dad than a good actor, being there for my children, educating them and hopefully helping them avoid some of the mistakes that I've made.
He rolled his eyes. "First, my Dad's Korean and my mom was Swedish. Second, I totally suck at math. I don't like cuckoo clocks or skiing or fancy chocolate either. " I sputtered a laugh. "I think that's Swiss.
My dad was a particularly polite kind of guy, very courteous. So when we got on a bus, he would always encourage me and my younger brother to get up and offer our seat to an old lady. I grew up kind of liking that, thinking, y'know, that's a nice thing, that's a courtesy.
It's the difference between someone who loves you more than anything in the world giving you criticism and getting it from some bitter stranger on the Internet. What my dad said to me was the kind of criticism where I was like, "Oh, my God, I'm on the wrong track. " I'm so grateful to him for doing that. He was such a no-nonsense guy in that sense.
I think I had kind of an advantage. When I was growing up, my dad had just got out of jail and he had a great record collection. He had - it was all - these were the songs. So I heard a lot of these songs, like, my whole life, so for me it was easy. I already knew what I was going to sing.
The towers fell, and the first thing that went through my head was my dad's voice: 'Well, you brought a new life into the world, and the world's over. Nice timing, numbnuts!
I don't think I've had a holiday in my entire life that wasn't about my dad's work.
My dad is really just lazy. He has nothing, I feel, to offer this world.
I usually travel with a lot of people, like my dad, mom and sisters.
I don't think a man who is fifteen years younger than me should tell me he is proud of me unless he is my sober coach or my time-travel dad.
The beautiful thing about older people is their ability to cut the fat off of conversation. When they talk, they don't go on forever and ever. They say what they have to say, and that's it. That was my grand dad. Some of the things he said stunned me, but his words were logical. I'll never forget them.