Yesterday was my dad's 69th birthday. And he's looking great. Today I got an email from a friend from my childhood. I had not heard from her since the day we graduated. She recently found me on facebook and wanted to just write and let me know how much time spent at the Sage house when she was growing up meant to her. Apparently we came across as normal. And loving, and accepting, and fun. And it's true- the Sage household was a great place to spend time back in the 70's and 80's. In honor of my dad's big day, I want to just highlight the role he had in creating that space. Mom. This does not diminish your role in anyway. Your turn will come. I have lots of great things to say about you as well.
Here's what I love about my dad: He believed in me 100%. He still does, too! I was a girl growing up in the early stages of Title IX- my first sports experiences were as 'the girl' on boys' teams. Soon enough we got all girls teams (which my mom was sweet enough to volunteer to coach). I was never very good at any of them, decent, passable, but surely not a lot of fun to watch. But he would be at every game, cheering away. Thankfully he was one of the good fans, enthusiastic, but not getting in trouble with the refs or jeering the other team. There were parents in that camp and I was so glad they were not mine. 14 years of basketball games too watch. Wow. That's dedication.
He also was always available to help with homework. I remember getting a little frustrated with his math help when he actually had to take 15-20 minutes to read the chapter before helping me figure things out. Now that my oldest is tackling algebra I understand why you need the little refresher. I mean, I know that stuff, I just don't know it in a place in my brain that is easily accessible. But Rodg always found it. He'd sit with the texts puzzing it out and then translate for me. Even when I was getting testy and frustrated, he'd figure it out, work me through it, and help me get it done. He was an ideal tutor.
Rodg was also willing to teach me other things. I was always fascinated by the things he could churn out in the basement workshop. And I wanted to do it to, only I didn't have the best attention to detail, or follow through. But he'd take me down and lead me through whatever crazy project I had in mind. I remember back when I wanted to make a wooden puzzle for my soon to be spouse. He took me to the woodshop in the basement and on the first cut I nearly took off half a finger. He got a little pale, the forehead started sweating, but then he cracked some joke, got me a bandage and walked me through the rest of the project.
Our weekends and summers were chock full of parent-led adventures. They got us out on bikes, canoes, skies, our feet. We toured the US by van, camping our way through state and national parks. We backpacked in the Beartooth mountains, drove dune buggies and skied in the rockies, sailed through the bahamas, and met up with distant relatives in Switzerland. I was not always the easiest to travel with- sometimes refusing to get out of the car because my book was too good- but they only left me behind twice. But those were mistakes. Or so they say!
Now Rodg does all these things with my own kids. He's been hanging with my boys once a week since the day Eli was born. He and my mom get them out and about, but also spend crucial hours on the ground with them- talking, laughing, playing, loving. What a gift for my family. I'm hoping that his math skills are still accessible in that lovely brain of his, because I think I will need some help helping my boys very soon.
So. There's my little tribute to my lovely fabulous 69 year old pops. I love you dad! You're the best! Thanks for helping create the space in my childhood where I could grow and stretch and dream and be wonderfully happy! And for continuing to do it through all of these years.
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