It’s Father’s Day again.
My dad was the greatest storyteller ever. It’s taken me this long to realize I probably get that gift from him. I miss him. There was never a moment in my life, whether I saw him every day or once a year, that I felt unloved by my father.
My father, Anderson Carthel Covington, passed away in 2002. He was a lot of things to many people. He was more than just my Daddy, he was the one person who “got me” from top to bottom. He always talked to me as a person, even when I was a little kid. He never sugar coated stuff and he wasn’t ever mean. And he loved his girls, all 4 of us.
Was he perfect? No.
Was he always there? No.
He had his own demons to fight. He used drugs, he went to jail, he had flaws as we all do. But he was a good man. He had a smile for just about everyone and he was loved so much.
Whenever I go to Orange, the small town in Virginia where my family is from, at some point some vaguely familiar person will walk up to me and say, “You’re Carthel’s daughter aren’t you? Which one are you?” And there’s always a smile and a story and an “I remember when…” That’s something. That’s a memory. That’s love. That’s my Daddy.
Happy Father’s Day to the men who inspire their kids to unimaginable heights by the simplicity of their presence and who make sure their babies know they are loved beyond measure every single day of their lives!