I Learned from You

"Enjoy your happiness"

- Mark Leonard -

When I was in school my dad used to tell me, “Be good. Be nice. Have fun”. He felt that those three pieces of advice were enough to ensure that I would be successful and happy. He was right. They were broad enough to encompass every little thing he may have wanted to say to me:

“Don’t drink too much.” Have fun/Be good.

“Work hard in school.” Be good.

“Treat others the way you want to be treated.” Be nice.

“Follow your [big] dreams. Even the crazy ones.” Have fun. 

I still often think of those three small pieces of advice. They get me through the moments when I want to say something mean to someone else, the moments when I’m afraid of doing something new, and the moments when I’m faced with a tough decision. When I graduated from Franciscan University in May he gave me a book called The Last Lecture written by former professor at Carnegie Mellon, Randy Paush. Paush wrote the book in the last months of his life while he was suffering from pancreatic cancer. My dad said he wasn’t sure of any additional advice he could offer so he hoped I would find some advice in Paush’s book. He also assured me he did not have cancer. While I did find great bits of advice in The Last Lecture, I’m still a much bigger fan of my dad (I might be a little biased, sue me).

My dad is the type of person who is accepting and encouraging of even the craziest ideas. When I was in second grade my biggest dream was to go to Harvard so I could be a pediatric oncologist at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. My dad, with every ounce of his being, believed I would get there. When I was in middle school, my parents took me on a tour of Harvard and I remember him saying, “Well Hita, here it is. Is it everything you expected?” Looking back on that, he said it as though Harvard had to live up to my expectations, not the other way around. Harvard was my dream until I was in high school  and when I let go of that dream he expressed no disappointment, he simply helped me figure out what to do next. The summer before my senior year of high school the three of us embarked on a four week road trip around the country to visit colleges. In those four weeks we visited eleven very different colleges ranging from Franciscan University to The Ohio State University to Boston College. My dad recognized, however, that the colleges we visited were not the important part of the trip. The most important stop was the last one: St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee. This time he asked me a question before our tour began, “Well Hita, we’re here. Are you ready?” I realize now that he was really saying that my dreams are all at the tips of my fingers. By taking me on a tour of both Harvard and St. Jude’s my dad taught me to keep my dreams big and that it is my job to reach out and grab them.

I didn’t go to Harvard and I’m not a pediatric oncologist and it is very possible that I will never work at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. But my dad is accepting, encouraging, and proud of me all the same. When I called my parents crying* because I wanted to change my major from Biology to Psychology neither of them understood why I was so afraid to tell them. I was afraid to tell them, especially my dad, because my dreams had become his. In my mind, this was only another dream I was walking away from. What I didn’t realize at the time was that when my dreams change, so do his because he only wants me to be happy. So when I finally told him I wanted to be a teacher (another thing I was afraid to do) his response was something along the lines of “Well it’s about time you figured it out. Your mom and I have known since you were in kindergarten.” His dream was never for me to go to Harvard, to be a pediatric oncologist, or to work at St. Jude’s. It was always for me to follow mine….wherever they lead me.

Whether he is sitting in a high school gym watching a play performed by my students or sitting in Stockholm watching me receive a Nobel Prize for cancer research I know my dad will be overjoyed. He understands that success is not measured by how much money a person makes, what kind of car they drive, or how many vacations they go on a year. True success is doing what you love, loving what you do, having fun, and trusting that God’s plan is better than your own.

So I guess what I’m trying to say, Dad is:

Thank you for sticking with me through every angsty stage of my life (and even painting the walls of my room gray when I was 18).

Thank you for always texting me “Red Line” when you’re in Washington DC so I can respond with “Shady Grove”.

Thank you for sharing your love for the Red Sox with me and teaching me to not me a fair-weather fan.

Thank you for being proud of me when I still only got a C+ in a class that I had to retake (and keeping me calm when I called you crying because I thought I failed).

Thank you for listening to me ramble on and on and on…..and on some more….about Don Quixote.

Thank you for being patient when Mom and I say things like, “It’s next to the place where we bought the dress that you didn’t end up liking but on the other side of it.” 

I love you, Daddy. 

P.S. Mama, you’re really great and I love you too. :) 

*I still don’t remember crying.