Happy 60th Birthday, Daddy!

On September 28, 1949 the world welcomed Clifford Duane Unruh (to Quentin & Fern Unruh, who would -- in about 25 years -- become the world's greatest grandparents). And in 1977 he became my DADDY, the first man my heart belonged to. He's a man of courage, adventure, ingenuity, humor, and extreme integrity. He laughs; he leads; he loves. He is extremely well-respected and wise. He provided me with a wonderful home, emotional security, a meaningful education, and much silliness (like playing "conehead" with my hair in the bathtub when I was little). And he made a life for us that was truly one of a kind. We made music...we camped...we sailed...we campaigned... No matter how old I get, he will be "Daddy" to me.

Just a few favorite childhood memories:

--See bathtub "conehead" reference above

--Listening to him practice classical piano (Chopin, specifically) in the evenings

--The nights he would get out the old reel-to-reel tapes and rock out to Boston, or play recordings from his college band "The Nth Degree"

--Watching him pull out an album from his collection and put it on the turntable with SUCH care

--The way he would let me walk up his legs and flip me over

--Standing on his feet while he walked (or danced) me around the house

--Getting his help making my 4th grade salt-dough map of California, which in my opinion took 1st place because of the little "Golden Gate Bridge" he made out of a toothpick painted red

--Teaching me to sail, and making me my very own 8-foot sailboat (the beautiful Sarah K)

These are just a few from 20 years' worth of life shared under the same roof! Happy birthday, Daddy...I love you!

Update: Since it was SO GREAT, I'm posting my Dad's comment (response) below. He really is full of love and wisdom!

Dear Sarah,

Thank you for the birthday wishes. I have been on the telephone most of the day and unable to respond to your blog post until now. Today has been an emotional day for me. I can think back to when I was in college trying to imagine what it would be like to be 50. I thought 50 was old. Now I am 60 and trying to imagine what life is going to be like over the next 10 years and beyond. A comment was made in one of my birthday cards that “60 was not the end but [one] can see the end from [here]” and I suppose the end is visible if one chooses to look for it. I am at a crossroads of sort. I have no idea if my business will survive the outside influences beyond my control and under what circumstances. Looking at a potential career change at age 60 isn’t exactly something we plan for. Why am I saying this? Your blog post reminded me of one important fact as it took me back in time. The things you mentioned: conehead hair, walking and dancing on my shoes, practicing the piano while you were getting ready for bed, flipping you over, building the “Sarah K”. – all of these memories happened during other times of trial when, in spite of the unknown, I chose to persevere by trusting the Lord to see us through. How unique it was to have financial and personal concerns and to be having fun creating memories with an adorable daughter. One of the unique aspects of being a parent is the opportunity to rise above oneself. In our case we looked up to God and His provision. Your post helped me to remember that. Not having a child at home has allowed me the luxury of owning my problems. In looking back (thanks to your prompting) I realize that my responsibilities haven’t ended just because you are grown and married and that those special times are not unique to times past.

Yogi Berra once said that “the future is not what it used to be.” Guess what? I believe I actually understand what he meant and I am relatively certain that it’s not dementia setting in. I believe what he meant was that how we perceive the future today is not the same as how we used to perceive it “back in the day.” As perspective changes so does the view, much the same way that Anacapa Island does not “look like Anacapa Island” when viewed from the Southeast. It is the same island but the view from the perspective of Catalina and Santa Barbara Islands is not as familiar as the view from the Ventura County coastline. An interesting aspect of this analogy is that the closer we get to home port (Ventura or Channel Islands Harbor) the more familiar Anacapa Island becomes and the waters we sail feel.

It is the same with love. When you were a child living at home, our love for you could be directed towards you day and night at any time and at all times. Now, with you grown and married, the love still exists but it cannot always be directed or received at just any old time other than through prayer. No doubt there have been occasions when too much time passes between direct face to face or ear to ear contact as the circumstances of life change our perspective. Please know that I love you more than ever and cannot ever forget the moments of your childhood (a very fulfilling parental experience) that culminated in giving you away to Chad (a fine man if ever there was one). As we age, both you and me, our perspective will continue to change but the love does not. Please remember that.

Thank you for the kind words in your blog about your childhood memories. What an honor it is to be your father. I love you with all my heart.

Dad