My wonderful friend,Tonine, captured the sentiment of this picture of our friend Paul and his daughter Greta perfectly when she wrote:

Precious. Some of my fondest memories of my dad and me are of us dancing. From the days of stepping on toes to waiting my turn when he was dancing with my mom……to my wedding day. Now, my mom and I dance together, just a month ago at my cousins wedding I asked my mom to waltz, although it was my mom and I on the dance floor, in our hearts we were dancing with him.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing. To this day, I keep a photo of my father and I dancing on my wedding day, 25 years ago. Tonine

How many times I’ve declared I am a father’s daughter. You’ve all heard me say it with pride and confidence that I am what I am today for the gifts the man gave me.  My father, when he went had given us so many fond but simple memories that its hard to believe its been seven years.

There were lessons and rides in the car and Cokes out of the big red Coca Cola cooler. Tips and tricks to teach us everything from adding in our heads to how to avoid a hang over.  He taught us to call if we were in trouble even in the middle of the night, especially in the middle of the night.

I watched cartoons with him on Saturday mornings and read the Times with him on Sunday mornings.  I watched and cursed at the Mets, I rode with him on the truck, I had coffee with him in the diner and parked my car behind his without a drop of gas in it knowing full well he would take care of it.

But I never danced with my father. He was not a dancer, he could barely walk some days but did it anyway never letting on the pain he was in most of his life.  I was honored to have him walk me down the aisle (which was one of the longest in Bergen County) and held him up the entire way as he whispered to “slow it down honey”.  Never was a man so grateful to get to his seat but proud to have done something so outside his comfort zone for his daughter.  Although he wouldn’t be able to do that for my sister when she got married, he could no longer walk,  he had the pride of knowing he had his best suit on and as many lucid moments as he could muster.  His wink to her said it all.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t quote my father, think of him or speak his name but I never danced with him.  I had to let that sink in for quite some time today. And then I let it go, happy in the knowledge that there are so many wonderful fathers like Paul who are making fond memories for their daughters.

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance.  ~Ruth E. Renkel